Are You Ready To Fight?
by Sheytune
Summary: A series of unrelated one-shots focused around disagreements between Booth & Brennan - one for each letter of the alphabet. Note that most - if not all - fights will be resolved by the end of the one-shot. I'm not trying to torture them here.
1. Airport

Note: This is intended to capture a series of fights/arguments/disagreements between Brennan and Booth, one for each letter of the alphabet, set at different stages of their relationship. Let me know if you have suggestions for any of the letters (which would currently be everything after A, of course).

Also, I'd like to say that this was inspired by a comment by iamladyliberty on a completely different story.

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Relationship: Partners/Friends

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Brennan had been traveling for 24 hours. She was exhausted, and couldn't wait to get home and take a shower. As she exited the customs area, she scanned the crowd looking for her best friend. She was disappointed when she didn't see Angela in the crowd. She sighed, hoping that she wouldn't have to wait long. As she started to pull out her cell phone so that she could call and find out how long Angela would be, her attention was caught by her partner, rushing into the airport through the revolving door.

She smiled, trying to ignore how her pulse raced at the sight of him after 2 weeks on a dig in the middle of nowhere. Gripping the handle of her suitcase a little tighter, she headed off to meet him, a smile spreading across her face.

An answering smile graced his face as he spotted her, and he rushed towards her, pulling her into a quick hug as he said, "Bones! Welcome home. Angela couldn't make it, so she sent me instead. Sorry I'm late, were you waiting long?" As he was talking, he put his arm around her shoulder, grabbed her suitcase, and headed for the door.

Feeling a little like she was being dragged, she answered, "No, I just got through customs."

He pulled her through the door and to his SUV parked at the curb with the emergency lights on. He opened the back and put her suitcase in. As she stood there, stunned, he opened the passenger door, saying "Chop, chop, Bones! I can't park here forever, you know".

She entered the vehicle and put on her seatbelt as he walked around to his seat. As he got in, she said, "Booth, you shouldn't have parked there at all! That was an emergency lane."

His indignant reply came instantly, "And I'm FBI, Bones! Emergency lanes are for fire, and police, and ambulance. I'm _allowed_ to park in an emergency zone."

"Yes, Booth, but only when you're there _officially_, and only if it's an actual emergency. I don't think picking me up at the airport qualifies."

He sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Bones, I was running late, and I was just running in to get you! I'm allowed to park there, it's not a big deal."

Brennan turned and looked out her window, saying "All societies need rules, Booth. Since you enforce the rules of this society, I thought you would understand that. It is against the rules to block the emergency lane unless you are responding to an _emergency_. I don't think you should abuse your power just because you didn't leave enough time to get to the airport."

Silence filled the space inside the vehicle as it ate up the miles towards her apartment. As they drove, Booth glanced at her a couple of times. He had missed her while she was away, and he couldn't believe how badly this was going. He admitted to himself that he should have parked in the parking lot like everybody else, but it had taken him longer than he expected to talk Angela into letting him be the one to meet her at the airport.

As Brennan stared at the buildings rushing by, she wondered if she should apologize. True, he should have parked in the regular parking lot, but her fatigue had probably made her unnecessarily harsh with him. She had to admit that it had been nice to see a familiar face at the airport. It made her feel like she was finally home. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Booth glancing at her. She was still searching for a way to break the silence when Booth spoke. "How was your trip? Did you get to examine a lot of ancient skeletons?"

Happy that he was willing to make an effort, Brennan replied, "Yes, it was very interesting. In fact, Dr. Anderson and I excavated some fascinating burial sites. He has asked me to consider coming down there again in a couple of months."

Taken aback at the thought that she was considering another trip before she had even reached her apartment, Booth asked "Are you going to go?"

Brennan wondered whether he wanted her to go. She _had _been hard on him – especially since he was doing her a favor. She took a deep breath and answered, "I told him I would have to get back to him. I am very much in demand here, you know."

Booth smiled ruefully. "I know, Bones, I'm often the one doing the demanding."

Brennan smiled, turning to look at him. "You are, Booth."

He pulled into the parking lot of her building and parked. He reached the back of the vehicle before she did, and pulled out her suitcase. As she reached for it, he said, "Lead the way, Bones."

Surprised that he was making an effort to be nice even after their argument, she said, "Booth, I am more than capable of carrying my suitcase myself, you know."

He sighed. "I know, Bones, but just this once, let me be a gentleman and make sure you make it into your apartment safely."

Knowing that insisting on carrying her own suitcase would just result in more harsh words, Brennan sighed and led the way to the building.

When they reached the door of her apartment, Booth handed her the suitcase. He grinned at her and said, "I missed you, Bones."

She couldn't resist grinning back, relieved that they would be OK. "Thanks for picking me up at the airport, Booth."

He reached out and gave her another quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bones. Get some rest, OK?"

As she closed the door behind him, she had to admit to herself that it was good to be home.


	2. Book Signing

**Note**: Yes, this is a fight between Brennan and Booth told from a third party's perspective. It is intended to take place late in season 4 - post-Roxie, pre-brain tumor.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own them.

**Relationship**: Partners/Friends

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Let me explain a little about how things work around here.

Our official work hours are 8 to 5, with an hour for lunch. That's not usually how it works, though.

Cam and Hodgins get in around 8. I'm usually a few minutes late, so I'm here by 8:05.

I'm sure it's not a surprise that Brennan usually gets in early – if, of course, Booth hasn't dragged her off to some crime scene. When I get in, she has usually been here about 45 minutes. That means she has read her e-mail and is ready for me to drag her off to the cafeteria for coffee and breakfast.

It's nice to have that 15 minutes to catch up on each other's lives. It keeps our friendship strong – and buys me a little time before I have to deal with murder and tragedy.

This morning, though, she wasn't in when I went to her office. I assumed that we had a case, and she was off digging through the mud somewhere. It's too bad – she had a book signing last night, and I wanted to hear about it (and listen to her rant about people asking about _her_ Andy Lister – somehow, that always brightens my day). She doesn't really talk about her book signings – the only reason I knew about that one is that I happened to be in her office when her publicist called to confirm.

I had just decided on plan B - drag Cam off for breakfast instead - when Brennan finally got to work. She rushed past the platform without a word to anyone. Before I could even say hello, she was in her office with the door slammed behind her. (And believe me, those doors don't slam easily.)

Time for plan C. Go for breakfast with Cam, and bring back some toast and coffee for Brennan.

When I got back, I knocked before walking in to her office. She glanced up as I walked in, and snapped "I'm busy, Angela."

She looked like she hadn't slept much last night. What worried me more was the hint of sadness on her face. Brennan doesn't like to let people see her sad – she sees it as a sign of weakness – so the fact that she let me see it meant she wanted to talk about whatever made her feel this way.

I put the toast and coffee on her desk, saying "I thought you could use this".

Her "thank you" was almost sheepish.

I wanted to help, but I knew that directly asking what was wrong probably wouldn't get me anywhere. Instead, I asked about the book signing. That should be pretty innocuous, right?

How was I to know that the book signing was the problem? Or, rather, that an … incident at the book signing was the problem.

Before I really knew what was happening, the story was spilling out.

She had gotten to her book signing a few minutes early, which gave her a chance to talk with her publicist and the manager and staff of the book store sponsoring the event. The plan was for her to read a few pages from her latest book, and then sign books that people had brought with them – or, better yet, books that people would buy.

When they brought her out to the area where she was going to do her reading, she saw a crowd of strangers waiting for her to talk – and one very familiar FBI agent at the back of the room. She hadn't told him about the signing, so his presence was a surprise.

She read the passage she had prepared, then answered a few questions (including _four_ about Andy Lister – none of which came from Booth, although I think she was probably right when she used the word "smirking" to describe him).

After that, it was time for her to sign books, and that's what she did – right up until an over-zealous FBI agent made the mistake of confusing a college kid reaching into a messenger bag for a camera with an assailant going for a knife. After Booth tackled him, the rest of the signing was called off.

(Let's keep between us the fact that my first thought was how _hot_ the image of Booth tackling someone he thought was threatening his Bones is, OK? Come on, you know she's "his" Bones – in his mind, at least.)

Judging by Brennan's anger as she told me this, "furious" would have been understating her reaction. I was a little afraid of saying the wrong thing for fear of that fury being turned on me.

Apparently, Booth's apology – and promise to replace the camera – was not enough to mollify her.

I can see her point – that _would_ be embarrassing. And she _is_ a grown woman, who should be able to sit in a book store for a couple of hours without a bodyguard.

However, I can see his point, too. He sees himself as her protector – and she is more than capable of getting into trouble in mundane situations. (This is the woman who got kidnapped by a serial killer while walking to her car, was attacked by another serial killer in her apartment, and had a third serial killer send her kneecaps in the mail. Most people have never met _one_ serial killer.)

Sometimes I think Brennan fights so hard against letting him take care of her because she's afraid that if she lets him in and then he leaves, she won't be able to take care of herself anymore.

Of course, I couldn't let them _keep_ fighting. I mean, I like watching their bickering as much as anyone (although I miss the days when I could drag Hodgins off to the Egyptian room afterwards – a cold shower is _not_ an adequate substitute). This was _fighting,_ though, and if someone didn't step in, it could seriously damage their partnership (or whatever they're calling it these days).

That's why, when Booth walked in to the Jeffersonian just before lunch time, entered Brennan's office, and then dejectedly walked out thirty seconds later, I decided to intervene.

Cam and I exchanged looks, and it was decided – she would intercept Booth, and I would talk to Brennan.

For the second time that day, I walked into Brennan's office not knowing what kind of reception to expect.

Naturally, I started the conversation by asking what Booth wanted. (Of course, you and I both know what he wanted – and we both know that he told _Brennan_ that he wanted to go for lunch with her.) Of course, she was still angry, and she refused.

There was only one way to diffuse the situation.

I agreed with her.

I told her that Booth was out of line. I told her that she was completely right, and that he shouldn't be so overprotective. I said she was completely justified in being angry with him.

Then I took it a step further.

I told her that, if I were her, I would refuse to ever work with him again. End their partnership. Tell Cam to tell the FBI to find another agent to work with the Jeffersonian.

And then, in a master stroke of genius, I volunteered to tell Cam for her.

I think I shocked her, because I was out the door, yelling across the room to Cam that she needed to tell the FBI to find a replacement for Booth.

Booth was stunned.

And so was Brennan.

Before I finished my sentence, she was out the door, yelling "No! Angela, Booth is my _partner_! Of course I'll still work with him! What are you doing?"

Somehow, they ended up in each other's arms in the middle of the lab. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were hugging – and, I assume, apologizing. Wendell and Hodgins were grinning. Cam had a huge smile on her face.

As for me, I was filled with a sense of satisfaction – and the need to drag Hodgins off to the Egyptian Room.

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**So? What should C be? Children? Church? Coffee? Something I haven't thought of? Let me know. (We've had two in a row where Brennan was the one to get angry with Booth, so ideally C will be the other way around.)  
**


	3. Cohabitation

**Note:** With A, the original story was about 500 words long,. With this one, it took 1500 words before I got anywhere near the point. Apparently, writing cover letters has broken my brain.

Thanks to all those who reviewed, and especially those who suggested words for C (and D) – NCCJFAN, ScullyBones, WhiteRose621, River, HarrissBoBarriss, Quirky-Misty, and felixlee14. Words suggested included Catholicism, coffin, cremation, cattle, cheesecake, cancer, camera, cats, cops, coroner, church, clowns, compassion, case, cafeteria.

They were all awesome suggestions (and I kind of want to write them fighting over a coffin or clowns). Unfortunately, my brain went in a different direction, so C is cohabitation.

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own them.

**Relationship: **This one starts practically at the beginning of time, so just read it to see where it ends.

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When you were eighteen, you joined the army. You went through basic training and shared the barracks with the other recruits. You got your first posting, and finally got a bit more privacy - there were only 4 guys in your room.

When you were shipped overseas, your living conditions changed regularly. When you were in camp, you shared your living space with a dozen others. When you were on an assignment, you slept wherever you could find a safe place.

When you got back to the U.S. and left the service, you vowed that you would not live alone until you had a wife and family of your own - no roommates, no live-in lovers.

At times, money was tight, but you kept your vow. You dated, you had long-term relationships, but you always had your own place.

When Rebecca got pregnant, you thought it was time for the family you've always dreamed of. You proposed, dreaming of the small house in the suburbs filled with a wife and a child who loved you. She said no.

You love Parker - you always will - but he is for all intents and purposes a houseguest at your place. His real home - his room, the backpack with his homework, the security blanket he wouldn't fall asleep without when he was 2 - is with Rebecca.

After Rebecca rejected you, even after Parker was born, you dreamed of the traditional love story - meeting someone, falling in love, getting married, buying the perfect house to raise your children together.

Instead, you met her.

When you met her, you thought she was cold and uncaring. You were insulted by the things she said about your religion, your personality, and your son. You couldn't believe that she didn't believe in marriage.

Over time, though, you came to see how much she cared. She worked tirelessly to help victims of murder and indifference. She argued with you and pushed you and somehow you both became better people because of it.

You found out more about her past, and began to understand why she spent so much energy protecting herself from being hurt.

You held her when she met her mother's killer, and let her escaped-felon father escape again because she asked you to.

Somewhere along the line, you started comparing every woman you met to her. You suspect that was why you stopped dating.

You watched her date loser after loser, and almost lost her to Sully, the one who even you had to admit was not a loser.

You still wonder why she didn't hate you for arresting her father.

You don't know what Caroline was thinking, but you would have done much more than kiss your beautiful partner to give her another Christmas with her family. As you stood in the snow with a Christmas tree, you realized how much you wanted to make her happy.

Some people talk about falling in love as a beautiful, gentle thing. For you, it was more like falling off a cliff, not knowing what awaited you at the bottom.

You panicked. She was your partner and your best friend, and she was an important part of your professional and personal life. The risk that she'd reject you and throw that away was too high.

You did nothing.

She continued to date, and you knew it was your own fault – it's not like she had any idea that you were interested in her.

You were terrified that she'd figure out how you felt about her and reject you, so a big portion of your energy was devoted to hiding how you felt. Sometimes you were _too_ harsh, but you convinced yourself that it was OK – it's not like you were hurting her feelings.

Now, you know you were trying to convince yourself you weren't hurting her so that you wouldn't have to admit what a jerk you were being.

If it hadn't been for her, you don't know how long it would have taken for you to find out you had a brain tumor. She knew you, though, and she knew something was wrong. She drove you to the hospital and made sure you were taken care of. She stayed with you during the surgery, and she waited at your bedside for you to wake up.

You're not surprised that you thought she was your wife when you woke up. In your dreams, she has been your wife for years.

It took Cam to finally put it into words – _you're in love with Dr. Brennan _– but once you heard it, you knew it was true, and you were filled with the need to tell her.

However, you weren't fully yourself, and you were scared of making a mistake, so even as the words left your mouth, you took them back.

Life went on. You continued to watch her date other men. You recovered from your surgery, and became more confident that you were yourself.

You had wondered if the day would ever come, but eventually it did – you were both ready at the same time, and you started dating.

The two of you were still very different, but you respected each other, and somehow the relationship worked.

You spent some nights together, but you each still had your own place.

Eventually, though, you tired of splitting your time between her place (where you still felt like an interloper) and your place (where, when she wasn't there, you spent your time missing her). Naturally, you wanted to marry her. She has always been her own person, though, and she felt strongly that she didn't want to get married. Eventually, you reached an agreement – you would move in together. Yes, it was less than you'd hoped for, but you were committed to her, and you knew she was committed to you, and you would give up your 15-year-old vow for the chance to fall asleep with her every night and wake up with her every morning. Besides, you were already each other's family, so it wasn't really that much of a sacrifice.

The two of you bickered about who would move, until in the end you agreed that you both would. You bought a place together, gave up your old places, and hired movers. Now the house was filled with furniture and boxes and squints, trying to help.

Of course, that didn't really explain why you were sitting on the back stoop alone on what was the first day of your shared life with her.

The day had started well. The truck from her place had been loaded last night. She had spent the night at your place, and you had shared a quick breakfast before she headed to the new place to wait for the truck. While she did that, you were at your place supervising the loading of your stuff. Angela, Hodgins, and Cam had volunteered to clean her old place in the morning, meet for lunch at the new place, and then clean your old place in the afternoon.

You got to the new place before the truck, and you got to enjoy a take-out lunch with the squints, sitting on the floor and using boxes as makeshift tables.

As the movers were unloading your furniture and boxes, you helped Bones unload boxes for the kitchen. Most of her pots and dishes were better than yours, so all of that stuff could be unpacked before your stuff was off the truck.

Cleaning your place didn't take that long, and soon the squints were back, ready to help unpack. Hodgins and Cam were put to work unpacking boxes of books in Bones's study. You went to start setting up the bedrooms and Angela took your place helping Bones set up the kitchen.

After a while, you headed to the kitchen for some water. That's when you heard it.

Angela had asked Bones what you were going to do with the box of dishes and pots that you didn't need anymore, and Bones casually replied, "We'll put it in the basement for now. There's no point in getting rid of it, if we break up we'll need them again."

You were stunned – she was already planning your breakup? You saw moving in together as a permanent commitment. She obviously saw it as a temporary arrangement.

You know you should have stayed and asked her about it, but you were so hurt you had to get away. That's why you were sitting on the back stoop, wondering if you were making the biggest mistake of your life.

Through the open window, you could hear the noise of unpacking continuing in the kitchen, but it wasn't until Bones went to take a pile of boxes out to the garage for later disposal that she noticed you were there.

She looked puzzled as she asked, "Booth? What are you doing out here?"

You took a deep breath and stood to face her. It was now or never. "I came down to get a drink of water and heard you talking to Angela."

Her face flushed. "Look, Booth, I know you don't like me telling Angela about our sex life, but …"

You interrupted. "Not that part, Bones. I heard you say we'd need the extra dishes if we break up. Are you planning on us breaking up? I thought we were both committed to making this work. If you're _not_, I need you to tell me that."

She looked shocked, maybe even a bit scared, as she reached out to take your hand and pull you down to sit on the step beside her. You sat beside her, staring at your joined hands, wondering if you would have to tell everyone to stop unpacking and start packing everything up again.

She angled her body to face you. When you didn't look up, she used her free hand to brush your cheek and said, "Look at me.

"Booth, I love you. And I want to live with you. I want us to be together forever. But in my experience, that's not how relationships work. Everyone I've ever loved has left me. My parents abandoned me. My brother left. When I was in the system, I was shuffled from house to house like an unwanted pet. I've lived with men before – by the time my relationship with Pete ended, we couldn't stand each other. I wasn't enough to keep Sully from leaving.

I know you believe in love that lasts forever. I want to believe that too – but I don't know how to do that. The one constant in my relationships has been that they end."

Your hurt and panic must have shown on your face, because she continued, "But you stay. I've hurt your feelings. I've told you to leave. I've believed others when I should have trusted you. I've even shot you – and you're still here. If anyone can help me believe in forever, it's you."

As the tears ran silently down her cheeks, she added, "I'm sorry that what I said hurt you. I'm not _planning_ to leave, but I've never had a relationship that didn't end. I'm committed to this, but if that's not enough – if _I'm_ not enough – then please tell me now so that we can salvage our friendship. I don't want to ever picture my life without you."

You had known most of what she told you, but had never put the pieces together. She really had never experienced a relationship that didn't end. Even her parents, who should have been the best example of unconditional love and acceptance, had left her. Yes, they had left _because_ they loved her, but the fifteen years she lived without knowing that had changed her.

You reached out, pulling her into your arms, as you said, "Bones, I'm sorry. I didn't think about that. There are people in my life – my grandfather, Jared – who have always been part of my life, and who _will_ always be part of my life. I didn't think about what it was like for you."

You pulled back slightly so that you could look into her eyes before continuing, "I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. I'm committed to making that happen. But if we both try our best and that doesn't happen, I promise that I will always be your friend. OK?"

She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and gave you a tremulous smile as she nodded.

You smiled and leaned to kiss her, then said, "I guess we should go help unpack before Hodgins starts breeding beetles in the bathtub."

With that, you pulled her to her feet, putting your arm around you as you headed back into the house.

As you reached for the door handle, though, you had to ask, "Bones? What exactly have you been telling Angela about our sex life?"

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**I enjoy hearing what you think about this. Also, any thoughts on "D"? The obvious one is date. Diner was also suggested, but there must be others.**


	4. Drawing

**Note**: I woke up to 10 reviews yesterday. That was awesome (and a big part of why I spent last night on the first draft of this).

Thanks to 7, HarrissBoBarriss, sleeplessinatlanta, felixlee14, Chestnutlass , angrockman13, and River for suggestions for D.

The (awesome) suggestions were:

dog, dagger, death, disease, decay, decompose, drums, dodge ball, dubious, divorce, deception, domesticity, domestic dispute about dishes, diapers, dalliances, daffodils, dead body, definitive, darkness, dolphins, drawing/doodle, deleting, dirt, dancing

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians, and I hope everyone's having a good weekend.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them … which is good, 'cause I don't have to actually write any case-related stuff.

**Relationship status:** Partners. Probably late season 4 (before the brain tumor).

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Unlike some people, I've never dreaded Mondays, but this day was trying to change my mind.

Parker had stayed with me that weekend. We had a great time - we went to the zoo, went out for pancakes after church, went to the park and played football, and had fun hanging out.

This morning, though, wasn't so much fun. Parker was sluggish and didn't want to get out of bed. Once I got him moving, I rushed to get his cereal ready and ended up spilling the milk all over the floor. Without milk, cereal was out of the question, so I put some bread in the toaster and started mopping the floor.

Of course, I forgot about the toaster's recent disinclination to actually pop the toast up when it was done toasting, and the toast burnt.

On to plan C. I bundled Parker up in his jacket, made sure he had his backpack with his homework, and stopped on the way to school to pick up breakfast.

As I was sitting outsider Parker's school waiting for him to finish his breakfast, Angela called. She had finished the sketch of our most recent victim.

No problem, the Jeffersonian was between Parker's school and my office. I said I'd stop by on the way to work.

I got Parker into the school, then headed back to the truck. That's when I discovered the flat tire.

I changed the tire, getting grease on my shirt as I did so. I'd have to go home to change after I stopped by the Jeffersonian. With the way my day was going, I'd be lucky to be at work by noon.

I dropped the punctured tire off to be fixed, then headed to the Jeffersonian.

The parking structure was mostly full, so I had to park on the roof. The security guard was new, so I had to go through the whole process of explaining who I am, showing my badge, and letting him verify that I was allowed to carry my weapon into the Jeffersonian. Eventually, he finished the sign in process and I headed to the Medico-Legal lab.

When I got there, the platform was deserted. The lights in Bones's office were off, so I headed to Angela's office.

Of course, it wasn't my day – she was nowhere to be found either. Luckily, there was a sketch pad sitting on her desk. I flipped through it, assuming that the sketch I was looking for would be the last one in the book.

For a minute, I thought I was seeing things. I slowed down, turning the pages more slowly.

I had been right the first time. That was definitely a drawing of my partner.

That wouldn't be that remarkable – Angela picks up a pencil and starts sketching when she's bored.

No, the remarkable part was that this was a _naked_ drawing of Bones.

I'm not sure how long I gaped at the picture. I finally managed to drag my gaze away from it when I heard voices in the hallway.

Of course, given the way this day was going, I should have known who was going to walk through the door. Naturally, it was Bones, talking with Angela about her latest date.

I wanted to give up, go home, and go back to bed until tomorrow. Tomorrow had to be better, right?

Of course, the thought of going to bed brought my mind right back to the picture.

I must have looked stunned, because Bones broke off the story of where her date had taken her for dinner to say, "Booth? Are you OK?"

It was hard for me to look her in the eye, so I glanced over to Angela. That was a mistake, because Angela was looking at the sketch pad on the desk and grinning.

I knew I should say something, but I couldn't think of the right words.

Bones looked concerned, and said, "You look flushed. Do you have a fever?"

I jumped back three feet when she reached to put her hand on my forehead.

Somehow, Angela managed to keep herself from giggling as she said, "Sweetie? I think Booth looked through my sketch pad."

That didn't seem to clear things up, because Bones asked, "So? Why would that be a problem?"

Angela opened her mouth to speak, but I spoke up before she had a chance. I hadn't realized how strongly I felt about what I'd seen until my hand hit Angela's desk and I was shouting, "Why would that be a _problem_, Bones? Are you aware of what is in this sketch pad? I was _looking_ for a sketch of the victim, and what did I find? A picture of _you_! And you were…." I waved my hand in the general direction of her body.

That didn't seem to help her. She still looked puzzled, so Angela stepped in. "Bren, the picture I drew of you – the one you posed nude for a couple of weeks ago? That is in this sketch pad."

Bones still looked confused. "So? Why is that a problem?"

Angela grinned. "It's a problem because now Booth is thinking about you naked, Bren."

For some reason, that seemed to cause Bones pain. I couldn't understand why, until she said, "Oh! Booth … is thinking about me naked. And that's a problem, because he finds me unattractive."

Apparently, even geniuses have their off days.

Without even thinking about it, I spoke up, "No, Bones, you're beautiful. You _know_ I think you're beautiful."

She shook her head. "No, Booth, I know you don't think about me that way. You think I'm an awkward, socially mal-adjusted geek. You've been very clear. It's OK. We're partners, you don't have to be attracted to me."

What? How could she think that? Apparently I'm better at hiding my attraction to her than I thought.

I glanced over at Angela, who was glaring at me by now. I nodded towards the door, hoping she'd leave us alone. She rolled her eyes, but she left.

After we were alone, I walked over to Bones and grabbed her hands in mine. She determinedly stared at our joined hands, but when I said, "Bones? Look at me.", she looked up.

If I wanted to wipe that look of hurt off of her face, I had to be honest. I just had to hope that our friendship would survive.

I pulled her over to Angela's couch. When we were both seated, I angled my body towards hers and said, "Bones, seeing the picture wasn't a problem for me because I find you unattractive. It was a problem for me because I find you _very_ attractive. Yes, you don't always say the right thing, but you _always_ care. You're the one I spend most of my time with, because you're the one I _want_ to spend most of my time with. I'm in love with you. It feels like I've been in love with you forever. And when I saw that picture, I … I've dreamed of seeing you naked, Bones. And to see that picture, and then have you walk through the door? It was a bit much, that's all.

"I don't know if you feel the same way I do. It's OK if you don't. We're partners, and friends, and it's OK with me if that's all we ever are. I want you to be happy. But, if you ever think that you want more, please tell me, OK?"

Almost before I finished talking, her lips were on mine.

I don't like to admit how often I've thought about our first kiss. (Yes, we kissed when Caroline blackmailed her. That was awesome, but it didn't really count. I wanted her to kiss me because she _wanted _to, not because she was being blackmailed by a puckish prosecutor.) I've wondered if any kiss could live up to my imagination. This kiss? It was better. Eventually, she pulled away and smiling, said "Do you want to go for dinner tonight?"

A date? With Bones? Did she even need to ask?

I smiled at her. "Yes. Yes, I do. I'll pick you up at 7, OK?"

She nodded, then stood, saying "Go to work, Booth. I'll see you tonight."

With that, she left the office. Looking through the glass door, I saw Angela intercept her half way across the platform.

I was at my desk before I realized that I never did get the sketch of the victim from Angela – and my shirt still had a grease stain on it – but somehow it didn't seem like such a bad day after all.

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**Any thoughts for E? Evasion, elephants, eggplant, error, eyeball … ?**


	5. Eavesdropping

**Note: **I'm enjoying hearing what people think of these!

Thanks to all who reviewed, and to:

pandarabbit, sleeplessinatlanta, , Viktorija, 7, Incendiary Device, Incendiary Device, and felixlee14 who provided the following suggestions for E:

elevator, emotions, emergency, Egypt, enchanted, evolution, endearments, Easter, endnote, eggplant, eyeshadow, eavesdropping, escapade, ecstasy, euphoria, entrance, eyeball, exclusion, essay, excitement, encouragement, elevation

I appreciate all of the suggestions, even the ones I don't use.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I'm just playing.

**Relationship status:** Partners/friends. Takes place between seasons 3 & 4. I'm not a psychologist (not even close) so don't expect this to be completely accurate. I hope you'll get the idea, though.

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July 25, 2008

Clients: Agent Seeley Booth & Dr. Temperance Brennan

Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan arrived together.

_They always show up together – either Booth picks her up at the Jeffersonian, or she stops by his office to get him before they come down here. _

I thanked them for coming, then suggested that, if there was nothing they wanted to discuss, we could do a trust-building exercise. However, Dr. Brennan indicated she had an issue she wanted to talk about.

"_There's something I'd like to discuss."_

_What? Dr. I-hate-psychology actually wanted to share something? Voluntarily?_

"_OK, Dr. Brennan, what would you like to discuss?"_

"_Booth has been eavesdropping on me. I believe that is detrimental to our partnership." _

Dr. Brennan stated her belief that Agent Booth had been eavesdropping on her.

"_What?"_

"_You have, Booth. Don't think I don't know that you were eavesdropping on my conversation with Angela yesterday."_

'_But … "  
_

"_You were standing outside the door of my office, listening to me talk with Angela about my vacation plans."_

"_Bones, I didn't intend to eavesdrop, I was just coming over to talk to you about our case."_

"_That may be why you were there, but you didn't walk away when you heard us talking … and you didn't interrupt us, either. You just stood there and listened. What is so fascinating about me going to Jamaica to meet Sully for a week, anyway?"_

_Sully? Who is that?_

A discussion ensued.

"_What? Bones, I … it's just, sometimes it feels like you don't tell me anything important anymore."_

"_You didn't tell me when you faked your death. Wouldn't you consider that important?"  
_

_Whoa. _

Agent Booth expressed his belief that Dr. Brennan didn't share important parts of her life with him. Dr. Brennan then brought up his faked death.

"_Bones, I told you. You were on the list. You were supposed to know. Sweets should have told you."_

_Oh no. That is not good. Don't turn this on me, dude._

"_We've discussed this before, Booth. Sweets didn't tell me because of national security. You should have told me. But you didn't, so I don't think you have any right to complain I don't tell you anything."_

"_But…"_

"_Do you have any idea what my life was like when I thought you were dead? How would you feel if you thought I was dead? Wouldn't that bother you?"_

"_But … you were OK, right, Bones? You compartmentalized and you were fine."_

"_FINE? I thought you were dead! How could I have been fine?:_

At one point, the discussion got heated, and I had to intervene, facilitating a discussion about Agent Booth's fake death.

"_Agent Booth, when Dr. Brennan thought you were dead, she did indeed compartmentalize. However, that does not mean that it was easy for her. In fact, her colleagues and I were concerned about her well-being."_

"_I believe that I continued to do my job adequately even while I thought Booth was dead."_

"_Dr. Brennan, there was no concern about the way you were doing your job. You are an excellent forensic anthropologist, and you continued to do your job effectively. However, we were concerned about your emotional well-being. I'm sure you would admit that Agent Booth is one of your closest friends. His loss was very difficult for you to deal with emotionally."_

"_I will admit that it affected me more than I would have liked. Booth is a very big part of my life, and it was … difficult when he was no longer here."_

_Booth was listening, looking somewhat stunned. Apparently he had not realized how hard she found the two weeks when she thought he was dead._

"_Bones, I'm sorry you went through that. I should have called you."_

"_Yes, you should have, Booth."_

"_Agent Booth, how would you have felt if Dr. Brennan had been shot and killed?"_

"_What do you mean, how would I feel, Sweets? I would feel guilty! It's my job to protect her."_

"_Is that it? Guilty? That's all you'd feel?"_

"_I'd be upset, of course. Sad. Angry. Bones is my partner, Sweets. I know you don't understand what that means because you're twelve, but …"_

"_There's no need to bring my age into this, Agent Booth. I assure you that I have lost loved ones before. I know how that feels."_

"_Booth doesn't love me. We're partners."_

"_What? Of course I love you, Bones, we're partners."_

"_That makes no sense."_

"_I think that what Agent Booth is saying is that you're an important part of his life, and he cares for you very deeply."_

Despite there clearly being additional unresolved feelings relating to Agent Booth's faked death, both clients showed a reluctance to discuss the issue further, so I brought the discussion back to the charge of eavesdropping.

"_Agent Booth, were you eavesdropping on Dr. Brennan?"_

"_I guess I was. Bones, I overheard you talking to Angela, and I just … I wanted to know what was going on with you, you know? It seems like we don't really talk much anymore. I miss that."_

"_I miss that, too, Booth. Can we agree that we both need to be more open about the important things in our lives?"_

"_Yes. And next time I overhear something I shouldn't hear, I will walk away or let you know I'm there."_

The eavesdropping situation was resolved to both clients' satisfaction.

I was about to bring up the trust exercise again, but Agent Booth's cell phone rang and they had to leave.

"_Come on, Bones, we have a case. Let's go."_

"_But …"_

"_We'll see you next week, Sweets." With that, they left, Booth's hand at the small of Brennan's back._

Excellent progress made today, especially with respect to the impact of Agent Booth's fake death on Dr. Brennan. Perhaps at our next session, we can continue with the trust exercises.

"_Hey Bones, are you really going to go see Sully?"_

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**Any thoughts for F? Flirting, foster, friend, favor, flowers, …**


	6. Fear

**Note: **I'm having a lot of fun doing these –and frankly, the more outlandish the suggestion is, the more I enjoy trying to figure out how I could turn it into a fight. (I usually end up going with an easier one, but I like thinking about the other possibilities – it distracts me from the hated job hunting.)

Thanks to all who reviewed (seriously, getting a review brightens my day) and to:

sleeplessinatlanta, muffin, River, 7, Quirky-Misty, BonesnBooth, Viktorija, , Incendiary Device, felixlee14 who provided the following suggestions for F:

family, feelings, fears, faking, food, fishing, fruitcake, Filipino, Feline Aids, fractured, faked, fake, findings, fragile, faith, family, fanatic, fight, fame, fidgeting, fox, friction, fans, fanatic

I appreciate all of the suggestions, even the ones I don't use.

This one was far more of a struggle than the last few, so I hope you like it.

I keep meaning to write one of these in the third person, but that just doesn't work for something as personal as a fight. Maybe I'll get it right eventually.

Also, sleeplessinatlanta is going to do an M-rated series of fights (awesome, right?), so keep your eyes open for that!

I'll stop now, before this is more note than story.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Partners. Post Doctor in the Den.

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It was 3:30 on Friday. It had been a long week, and Angela and I were discussing our weekend plans.

Clark was on the platform, intently examining a skeleton from limbo. Hodgins was finishing off his report on the particulates found in the latest case. Dr. Brennan had called – the suspect had confessed, and for all intents and purposes, the case was over.

Sometimes it feels like I spend my life trying to herd cats. When we work a case, tempers get heated, and I spent the last week mediating squabbles between the members of the team. Now that the case was solved, I just had my home life to worry about. Michelle was supposed to be home from her after-school job at 8. She had mentioned going to a movie with her boyfriend later, and I knew there would be a battle about her curfew. I wasn't looking forward to the battle, but I was dreaming of a nice, relaxing bubble bath as soon as she left.

Angela was still on her celibacy kick, and was planning to spend the weekend working on her art and dragging Dr. Brennan out shopping. I suspected that Dr. Brennan was unaware of that plan, and was glad that I did not need to be involved in convincing her.

Of course, there was still an hour and a half left of the work week, and all I wanted was to finish my chat with Angela, get the weekly reports sent off, and head home. That hope was dashed when Booth and Brennan walked in, heading for her office to finish up the paperwork.

Dr. Brennan swiped her card to access the platform and stopped by the examination table to chat with Clark as Booth walked over to Angela and me.

We exchanged greetings, and naturally I asked about the confession.

This had been a tough case for everyone, but luckily it was over now. He explained how the suspect had killed his brother over a business deal gone bad.

Talk of the case caught Dr. Brennan's attention, and she said "I don't understand how that man could have killed his _brother_. So he'd lost a lot of money, that's not worth killing for."

Booth sighed. "I know, Bones, I don't really understand it either, but I think it comes down to fear. He was afraid that the money he'd lost would cost him his house, his family, his lifestyle. People sometimes deal poorly with fear."

Brennan looked thoughtful. "You mean like when you shot that clown?"

Booth flushed. "I don't _fear _clowns."

Beside me, Angela grinned at Hodgins.

Looking like he was a kid on Christmas morning, Hodgins said, "You're afraid of clowns, man? Never would have guessed it."

"Yes, he is.", Brennan immediately replied.

Now Booth just looked annoyed. "I'm _not_ afraid of clowns. I don't like them, but I'm not afraid of them. I'm an FBI agent, OK? I'm not afraid of anything."

Hodgins was practically giddy. "You're afraid of _clowns_. This is _awesome._"

By now, Brennan had noticed that Booth was annoyed. "It's OK, Booth, everyone is afraid of something. You're afraid of clowns, I'm afraid of snakes, Angela is afraid of hypnotism, Hodgins is afraid of lingerie stores. No one thinks less of you because of you're afraid of clowns."

Hodgins face fell as she spoke. "Hey! How did you know that?"

Some people say that discretion is the better part of valor, but Dr. Brennan is not one of them. She shrugged, "Angela told me."

Looking at Angela's face, I figured I'd better step in before I had a riot on my hands. "Hodgins, how's that report going? I need to by 4."

Hodgins glared at both Dr. Brennan and Angela, then headed back to his desk to finish the report.

I turned to Angela. "Have a good weekend, Angela. I'll see you on Monday, OK." As she walked off, I looked at the two anthropologists on the platform, saying, "Dr. Brennan, Clark was mentioning some anomalies on the bones. Clark, can you explain to Dr. Brennan what you saw?"

As I saw Clark gesture at the bones on the table, I turned to the visibly annoyed FBI agent in front of me.

It was funny. Booth and I had known each other for years. For some of those years, we were lovers, for others we were firmly in the "just friends" camp. There were even a couple of years where our relationship consisted of occasional e-mails and Christmas cards.

When I came back to D.C., we had fallen back into bed together. That didn't last long before he broke it off, claiming that our relationship put me in danger. I knew better, though. Our relationship made him feel like he was cheating on a woman he was "just partners" with.

It has been a couple of years now. If you had asked me then, I would have said that they would have been dating within 6 months and broken up within a year. I was wrong. Booth is in it for the long haul. He's in no hurry.

In a way, it has been fun to watch. I'm friends with him – better friends now that the possibility of more is off the table. I'm friends with her – she is awkward and often says the wrong thing, but she's also passionate about the truth and intensely loyal. They prod each other, they push each other's buttons, and together the two of them become better investigators, better friends, and better people than they are by themselves. The whole is definitely better than the sum of its parts.

As I searched for the right words, I noticed Booth sneaking glances at Dr. Brennan on the platform. He wasn't alone – she was sneaking glances at him, obviously worried that she'd spoken out of turn and hurt him in some way.

I had to grin. "She means it, you know."

His attention turned back to me when I spoke. "Means what?"

"She doesn't think less of you because you're afraid of clowns."

I could see that he was about to deny it, so I cut him off, continuing, "Don't worry, I won't tell her."

Now he looked confused. "Tell her what, Cam?"

I grinned. "I won't tell her that you're way more scared of losing her than you are of clowns."

He glanced over at the platform again before turning back to look at me, a rueful smile on his face. "Thanks, Cam. Look, I should go talk to Bones, make sure she knows I'm not mad. I'll call you this weekend – maybe we can get together for lunch or something?"

I reached out and squeezed his hand. "Good luck. I'll talk to you this weekend."

He turned away, swiping his card as he walked onto the platform.

I watched as he said a few words to Clark before putting his arm around Dr. Brennan's shoulders and pulling her into her office, talking as they went. I couldn't hear what he said, but from the smile they shared as they walked through the door, it was obvious that all was forgiven.

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**Comments are always appreciated … and, of course, I'm looking for suggestions for G – Ghost? Graveyard? Goat?**


	7. Gravy

**Note: **This is a short one, but I love the idea of them arguing about gravy. (It was almost a lot shorter – I almost made it all-dialogue.)

Thanks to all who reviewed, and especially to:

sleeplessinatlanta, pandarabbit, Incendiary Device, River, Quirky-Misty, HarrissBoBarriss , Viktorija, Poetgirl925, felixlee14, WhiteRose621, and 7 who provided the following suggestions for G:

games, gambling, gravedigger, grieving, gravy, gentlemanly, geriatric, gone, goo, green, greasy, graphic novels, giddy, giggles, girlfriend, graceful, goose/geese, gratuitous, gallantry, gang, giraffe, geography, gruffy, griffin, grief, Gnosticism, grated cheese, game shows, grapes, grape juice, grandpa

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Established romantic relationship

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The room was quiet, the only sound the occasional hum of traffic on the street below and the occasional restless movement from the wide awake woman in the bed. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. "Booth, wake up!"

Startled out of a sound sleep, Booth's first thought was that she was in some sort of danger. "Huh? What's wrong, Bones?" Before the words had fully left his mouth, he was sitting up and reaching for his weapon.

"I don't know how to make gravy."

Booth relaxed back against the pillows. "Bones, it's 4 a.m. – there is no need to make gravy."

Sounding increasingly upset, she explained, "But in 12 hours, your mom and your grandfather and Jared will be here for Thanksgiving dinner, and _I don't know how to make gravy._"

Still optimistic that he would be able to get some sleep before the alarm went off, Booth replied, "Bones, no one cares if you know how to make gravy. I don't know how to make gravy either. Now go back to sleep, OK?"

He closed his eyes, only to hear her get out of bed. He assumed she was going to the bathroom or to get a glass of water until he heard the familiar sound of her laptop booting up. "Why are you turning on your laptop?"

Almost muttering to herself, Brennan said, "There must be somewhere that tells you how to make gravy."

He sat up again. "Bones, you don't even eat meat. Stop obsessing about gravy!"

"I'm _not _obsessing. I just need to know how to make gravy!"

"Bones, it is 4 a.m.! You're being ridiculous!"

It was quiet enough that he could hear the slight sniffle from across the room. "Bones, what are you – are you crying?"

"No!", she choked.

"You're crying." He got out of bed and walked over to where she was sitting hunched over her laptop keyboard. The screen was filled with search results for "gravy instructions".

"No, I'm not."

He reached out, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her in his arms. "Bones, look, I don't understand why you're so upset about gravy."

She lifted her head from his chest and said, "Booth, I … you're right, I'm being silly. Go back to sleep."

He put his hand under her chin and gently lifted it so that he could look into her eyes. "Bones, I really want to know."

Turning her head away as if ashamed, she said, "It's just … I know your family doesn't approve that we're living together without getting married, and I'm sure they would rather you were with someone normal who would marry you and have kids instead of some freak from a family of criminals who spends her time surrounded with bones. I just wanted them to like me."

He pulled her tighter into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. "Bones, I promise you, my family will like you – because they know how much I love you, and how happy you make me _every day.___It doesn't matter whether this is the most disastrous Thanksgiving dinner in history and we end up ordering pizza. Now come back to bed and get some sleep, and in the morning, we'll figure out how to make gravy together, OK?"

He could feel her nod against his chest. "Partners?"

She looked up and a shaky grin spread across her face. "Partners."

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**And … H? Hospital? Helicopter? Horse? Heart? Hostage?**


	8. Honeymoon

**Note: **You guys are awesome. I woke up to 20 e-mails this morning. There were more reviews than any other chapter of this story – and all of the reviews counted as one e-mail. The rest were story alerts and author alerts. I ran all of my errands with a big grin on my face. So … based on response, I'd say people like Booth & Brennan in a relationship.

(This might also have something to do with sleeplessinatlanta sending people my way – check out her M-rated version Fighting Words if you haven't already – and if you're interested / old enough for M-rated stuff.)

Thanks to all who reviewed, and especially to:

Poetgirl925, khalek-aeryn, Chestnutlass, sleeplessinatlanta, ImLovely, Meg, causkitty, River, Quirky-Misty, almostlikeTHElyn, sar'09, Jess, Nyre The Black Rose, Viktorija, Spuffyshipper, Blay67, 7, Helen3616 who provided the following suggestions for H:

Half-time, hamburgers, halitosis, hamsters, Hanukah, hard-boiled eggs, hours, high, honour, hemoglobin, hart hanson, boothy and brennan heart, heaven, handcuffs, heavy, harmony, health—food, hockey, hand holding, hopscotch, hippo, hickey, harmony, heaven, hell, hangover, Halloween, hallucinations, hats, hair/haircut, hurricane, hammock, hugs, honeymoon, hillbilly, house, hands, hate, horror, hit, hot, hike, hill, hats (as in role-playing with Sweets), help, health/healthy, haunted house, hungry hungry hippos, hodgins, humming, humble, hottie, holiday, hungry, heathen, help, Happy Days, hide, hippy, hallucination, handcuff, headfirst, heartburn, heartthrob, headlong, habits, half, happy medium, headstrong, health, hurt, hero/heroics, heroin, highway, helium, heart, hospital, hurt

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** This one is titled honeymoon, so I think you can figure it out.

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I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. My little girl, a red, wrinkly, squawking baby.

I watched her learn to crawl, and to walk.

I heard her first words. I helped her learn to read. I taught her to ride a bike.

As she got older, she'd follow me around, asking the big questions – Why? How?

I encouraged her. I helped her with her spelling words, math problems, and projects for the science fair. I watched her sing into a hair brush, pretending it was a microphone.

When she was fifteen, my past caught up to me and I had to leave her. I would have given anything to stay with her – anything except her life, so I left. Leaving her hurt me terribly, but it hurt her more.

I missed her first date. I missed seeing her graduate from high school. I missed seeing her get all of those degrees. I missed her first love, and her first heartbreak.

I missed helping her move into her first apartment, and hearing her brag about her first job.

When she was captured by the militia in Guatemala, I didn't know. When a rogue FBI agent tried to kill here, I wasn't there. When her first novel was published, I saw it in a bookstore and I was so _proud_ – and yet sad too, because I hadn't known she had written a book.

I saw her from a distance at a book signing once. She looked beautiful, but she didn't smile much.

I read the book, and I wondered if she was happy.

When she identified my Christine's remains, I wanted so badly to be there – but I couldn't.

She talked with McVicar, and found out enough to help her start looking for me – still looking for answers to those questions – Why? How?

I called and told her to stop looking for me. I didn't want to put her in more danger – from what I'd heard, she found danger well enough on her own.

And then I found out someone was trying to kill Russ. It was too hard for me to deal with it from so far away, so I ended up in D.C.. That's when I finally got to see her again.

It did an old man's heart good to see his little girl doing so well – and to meet the man who seemed to have made it his mission to protect her. I know she can take care of herself – she's like her mother that way – but I also know that everyone needs some help sometimes. I watched from the passenger seat as Russ drove away, and I knew that although I was leaving her, I wasn't leaving her alone.

After that, I tried to be a bigger (but unpredictable – no point in making it _easy_ for Booth to arrest me) part of her life. I was there when Booth was kidnapped, and I did something that would have been unthinkable 30 years ago – I helped save an FBI agent who was trying to arrest me.

When I heard she was getting married, I couldn't stay away. When she was a little girl, I dreamed of walking her down the aisle, and I finally was going to be able to make those dreams come true!

Unfortunately, I was misinformed – it was Angela and the bug guy who were getting married. I couldn't leave my little girl again, though, so I gave in. I let Booth arrest me.

She visited me in jail – regularly, albeit reluctantly. She talked about her work, she talked about her friends, and she talked about Booth. I don't think she realized how big a part of her life he was, but it was obvious to me how much they cared for each other. I'm pretty sure that Russ and I were the only prisoners to have a Christmas tree that year – especially one brought by our arresting officer.

I thought for sure that I'd get the death penalty at my trial, but she saved me.

I began to rebuild my life outside of prison. I got a job. I met Booth's son – cute kid, as curious as Tempe was as a child. I met her friends. I started to make friends of my own.

And through it all, I watched my little girl fall deeper in love.

It took Booth longer than I would have thought to finally tell her how he felt – I knew I had hurt her too much for her to make the first move. Eventually, though, he spoke up and they started dating.

I wouldn't have thought it could happen, but they grew even closer.

I asked Booth his intentions. He just glared at me.

They moved in together. I hoped they'd get married, but Tempe claimed that she didn't believe in marriage.

I knew better, though. I knew that she didn't believe that he wouldn't abandon her like I did.

After a couple of years of living together, she seemed … happy, secure, and content. She started to believe he wouldn't leave, and she knew how important marriage was to him, so she agreed to a small ceremony.

The wedding is next week. I don't get to give her away – she says she's not a possession to be handed from one man to another – but I will get to dance with her at the reception.

It's more than I dared to hope for. My family together, celebrating my little girl's happiness.

They had no problems figuring out the details for the wedding. The honeymoon, though, was a different story.

I was watching from the lounge when Booth came in to the lab.

_"Hey Bones, how about Jamaica?"_

"_For what?"_

"_For the honeymoon, Bones."_

"_Oh. What would we do there?"_

"_We would spend time together, Bones. You know, just relaxing and being together."  
_

"_Oh."_

That wasn't very enthusiastic.

"_You don't like Jamaica."_

"_It's just … couldn't we go somewhere that's not so … boring?"_

"_You think spending time with me is boring?_

"_Spending time with you is not boring, Booth, but … I'm used to having something to do on my vacations. Usually I'm on a dig or something._

"_No peering at skeletons on our honeymoon, Bones."_

"_But…"_

"_No. No skeletons. No remains."_

"_Why?"_

That's my little girl.

"_Because I want our honeymoon to be happy."  
_

"_I am happy when I'm examining bones. Last year when I was in Egypt, I got to examine remains that were over 3000 years old, and I was very happy."_

"_But I want us to be happy together."_

"_But … I'm not very good at just sitting around."_

"_We don't have to sit around. We can go snorkeling, or water skiing, or kayaking. There are tennis courts and a golf course."_

"_I am an excellent kayaker."_

"_There you go, Bones, we'll find things to do. And do you know what the best part will be?"_

"_The food? You picked the place based on food, right? Do they have pie?"_

"_The best part will be falling asleep every night with my arms around my wife."_

If you had asked me thirty years ago, I never would have thought that an FBI agent joining the family would be a cause for celebration. Now, though, there's nothing I want more.

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**Any thoughts for I? Ice cream? Igloo? Injury?**


	9. Intuition

**Note: **While writing this, I typed "bet" as "bed" … twice.

Thanks to all who reviewed – I especially liked hearing which parts you liked - and thanks to:

Incendiary Device, pandarabbit, Nyre The Black Rose, dawnsfire, khalek-aeryn, 7 Quirky-Misty, , BonesnBooth, Viktorija, causkitty, almostlikeTHElyn, Helen3616, DoctorWhoRules, teachbones, ImLovely

who provided the following suggestions for I:

iguana, impossible, immobile, Ireland, inoculations, incantations, igloo coolers, intuition, interrogation, isometrics, ivory, ilea, ichthyology, indecent, internet, inconclusive, impossible, itch, impish, indigo, ice cream, isotope, immigrants, instant potatoes, irregular, ice, itch, interest, intimacy, incapable, Italy, information, irreconcilable, icon, idiom, imagination, immodest, impatience, independence, ill, injury, industrial, indoors, indifferent, ignored, Idaho, intern, I-spy, imagination, IMAX, inkblot tests, indulgences, ironing

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Partners/friends. End of season 2.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You believe he didn't do it because of your _digestive tract?_"

"My _gut_. Not my digestive tract, but, you know, my intuition."

"I don't understand. He owed the victim a _lot_ of money, enough money that he would have had to sell his house to pay it back. His wife didn't know about it – she probably would have left him. Now he doesn't have to pay it back. It's logical to think that he could be the killer."

"I know, Bones, but I just don't … Peters is a good guy, you know? Yes, he has made some mistakes, but … if he killed the guy, it would have been a spur of the moment thing. This was clearly premeditated. I just don't see it."

"Then who did it?"

"I don't _know_, Bones. I just don't think it was Peters."

"But … it could have been him."

"I guess it could have been. Are your squints done with the evidence yet?"

"Not yet. Hodgins isn't done analyzing the soil samples. He might find something. And Zach is cleaning the bones. There might be something more there."

"So there might be something to lead us to a new suspect?"

"Possibly. I don't know who that could be, though."

"Well, that's my department, Bones. You guys stay here and do your squint stuff, and I'll go run some more checks on the victim and see who we need to go and talk to again. We've missed something."

"I still think it's Peters."

"Want to bet, Bones?"

"You shouldn't be betting, Booth, you're a degenerate gambler."

"Not for _money_, Bones. I'll tell you what, if you win, you can drive for a week."

"OK … if you win … I won't ask to drive for a week.

"Not good enough Bones. If I win, you make me your mac & cheese."

"OK. It's a bet."

"Excellent."

"I'd better get back to examining the remains so that we can solve the case. I get to pick the radio station while I'm driving, right?"

"OK, you get to work doing your squint stuff. I'll be back when I have a list of potential suspects. We'll go talk to them, solve the case, and then I'll take a nap while you cook."

"I knew this was about your digestive tract."

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**Thoughts for J?**


	10. Jealousy

**Note: **Sorry for the delay, I got derailed by prep for a job interview.

I'm always amazed at the amazing suggestions (and the obvious ones – seriously, I didn't think of Jeffersonian?). You guys are awesome.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks to:

Helen3616, Chestnutlass, causkitty, , bobbins34, 7, sleeplessinatlanta, Viktorija, Nyre The Black Rose, Incendiary Device, Cricketmadalice, chucky89us, pandarabbit, River, Quirky-Misty, felixlee14, Poetgirl925

who provided the following suggestions for J:

junk food, jungle gym, justice, Jesus, judge, jolly, jimmies, jellybeans, jack in the box, jewelry, Japan/Japanese, Jeffersonian, jail, Jordan almonds, jelly doughnuts, Jewish, jobs, Jersey, January, ju-ju, Jupiter, jog, jello, jail, jealousy/jealous girlfriend, jailbreak, journey, job, Joy, Jasper, jive, jello wrestling, junkyard, Jane Doe, joke, Jamaica, jam, jargon, July, June, jelly, jeremiad, job, jonquil, Jove, journey, juice, juxtaposition, jerk, junior, jar-head, Jacob's ladder, Jamaica Rum, journal, janitor's closet, jogging, jilted ex, judgment, joker, jingle bells, junipers, jump rope, jungle, jaguar, jokes, jump, jet, jazz, jam, jumper, jack rabbit, Jack Russell terrier, jaywalking, judgment day, jury duty

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** This is another one that starts at the beginning of time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When I was a child, my parents left me. I was devastated and bereft. I cried. I begged God to let them come home.

They didn't.

Instead, I was shuffled from foster home to foster home. I wasn't an easy child to care for. I resented these _strangers_ for replacing my parents. I hated my brother for abandoning me. I was petulant and sullen.

None of that made my parents come back. Instead, it just made life more difficult for me. I was shuffled from family to family, from school district to school district, and my life became more and more unsettled.

So I did what higher primates do – I adapted.

I refused to let myself be governed by emotion. Instead, I made logic my creed and prided myself on behaving rationally.

When other girls in my university dorm were falling in love and getting their hearts broken, I devoted myself to my studies. I was curious about sex, so I evaluated the men I knew and picked Doug, who I knew would provide an appropriate introduction. When I found out he was sleeping with another girl in my dorm, I broke off the relationship – I didn't want to expose myself unnecessarily to risks of sexually transmitted diseases. There was no big scene – I just explained that I thought it was better if we terminated our relationship. He agreed.

Some of the girls on my floor expected me to be jealous and angry, but even then I knew that monogamy was unnatural. I wasn't surprised Doug needed variety in his sexual partners.

I had other relationships that lasted for a while. I lived with Pete for 2 years. When we broke up, it took him a couple of weeks to find a new place. A week before he moved out, Angela and I ran into him in a restaurant down the street kissing a blonde woman. Angela expected me to be jealous, but there was no reason for it – our relationship was already over. Of course he was looking for a sexual relationship elsewhere.

I saw friends and colleagues suffer from jealousy, and I was mystified. Why let someone else have such control over your emotions? Relationships are temporary. Boyfriends fall for other people, they cheat, they leave. Why not accept that?

Then I met Booth. At first we were partners - adversaries, really. Later, we became friends. He became dedicated to making me believe that relationships can last. He said things like "There's someone for everyone". He talked about love like he believed that it exists, that relationships can last forever.

I didn't understand. He had had as many relationships fail as I had. The mother of his child wouldn't marry him. How could he think that love existed? How could he think it could last forever?

When my ex-boyfriend came into town and betrayed me during a court case, Booth was there. When I found out David's claim to care about me was just a means to recruit me into a _cult_, Booth was there. When Sully left, Booth was there. When the whole debacle with Mark and Jason blew up and they both dumped me, Booth was there.

Eventually, I began to believe he always would be.

While I sat in that hospital room, waiting for him to wake up, I realized that I didn't know how I would go on if he weren't part of my life.

I didn't want to admit it then, but I loved him.

When he woke up, he thought I was his wife. It was torture to sit there, loving him, while he looked at me with love in his eyes, because I knew that was just a result of his coma. He wasn't in love with me.

He recovered from the surgery. He remembered who I was to him, and … he still loved me.

It took me a while to believe it, but he returned the feelings I was fighting so hard to suppress.

Three weeks ago, we started dating. Well, actually, I thought we had been dating for a while – the only thing we'd been missing was sex. Booth is a romantic, though, and he wanted an "official" first date. I wanted to have sex after that date, but Booth wanted to take it slow.

Last week, we had sex. Well, as Booth would say, we made love.

I've had other lovers, but sex with Booth was beyond anything I had experienced in the past. Before I met him, I would have scoffed at the idea that there could be a difference between making love and having sex, but now … sex with Booth – with someone I was so close to – was amazing. The emotional connection _intensified_ the physical connection.

We didn't keep our new relationship quiet – everyone at the Jeffersonian knew. Whenever Angela saw the two of us together, she got a goofy grin on her face. In fact, she and Cam started an office pool about when we'd get married. I've always claimed that marriage was a remnant of less enlightened times, but the thought that Booth and I would be together forever was … nice.

I was happy.

Then tonight, I went to meet Booth at the Founding Fathers and found him having a cozy conversation with a blonde lawyer.

At that moment, I was jealous. Booth was _mine_. But it was obvious that despite his claims of love and forever, he was just another guy who claimed to love me and then, after I had sex with him, moved on to the next conquest.

I was filled with jealousy, anger, and hurt. I couldn't face him, so I just turned around and left.

He must have spotted me as I turned to leave, because I heard him call "Bones!" as I left. I didn't stop.

Luckily, I was parked right outside, and I had the car in motion before he was able to disentangle himself from the blonde and follow me.

I probably should have pulled over and called a cab. As hard as I was crying, it certainly wasn't safe to be driving. My cell phone rang three times before I made it to Angela's place, so I finally turned it off.

Luckily, Angela was home. She held me as I cried and listened to me rant. Then she told me I was wrong.

She said that Booth loved me, and I couldn't have seen what I thought I'd seen.

I didn't want to go home – I _knew_ that Booth would be waiting for me. I needed some space, some time to figure out how I could have been so wrong. Angela wanted me to go talk to Booth, but I just _couldn't_. The betrayal was too fresh, too new. Angela is a good friend, and despite her disapproval, she let me stay with her.

We were still sitting on the couch when Booth arrived. I guess it wasn't too hard to figure out where I had gone.

I wasn't ready to face him. I wanted to ignore the pounding on the door, but Angela said, "I know, sweetie, but you need to talk to him. And my landlord won't like it if he kicks in the door." She let him in, then shot me a sympathetic glance and headed off to the bedroom, saying "Call if you need me, Bren."

He walked in, saying, "Bones, why did you take off like that? I thought we were meeting for dinner."

I didn't know how to answer at first, but I managed to say, "You looked fully occupied from where I stood. It's OK, Booth. I know that it is unrealistic to expect monogamy in a relationship. I just expected it to last longer than a week."

He looked a little offended, although I wasn't sure why. "What are you talking about, Bones? I was waiting for you to arrive."

"You didn't look terribly lonely. In fact, you looked like you were on a date." Did he expect me to _join_ him while he picked up another woman?

He sounded exasperated. "What? You mean Anna? She's the prosecutor on one of my cases. She stopped by to say hi, and I was telling her I was waiting for you. She's a fan of your books. I told her I'd introduce her when you arrived – but then you got there and ran out of the door."

He expected me to believe that? "You were sitting at a table with her. Your body was angled towards her, and you had this _smile_ – Booth, you looked so _happy_. Look, I understand. It was irrational of me to expect that our sexual relationship would last. Maybe we should go back to being partners."

Booth looked angry now. "You know what, Bones, maybe we _should_ call this off. I looked happy because I was talking about _you_. Knowing that you're dating _me_ – that makes me happy. Talking about your books reminds me how proud I am of all that you've accomplished. So yes, I probably looked happy talking to Anna – because I was talking about _you_ and how happy _you make me_. But if you can't trust me – can't trust that I won't cheat on you the _second_ your back is turned? Then we need to call this off right now – because I can't live like that." His voice got louder and louder as he talked until he was almost shouting.

"What's it going to be, Bones? Can you trust me?"

My mind raced. Was it possible that I was wrong? I had been _so sure_ – and yet before Booth was anything else, he was my friend.

As Booth paced the floor in front of me, I remembered him standing on the dock when Sully left, and holding me as my dad and Russ drove away. I remembered him standing with me as we buried my mother. I remembered a Christmas tree in the snow. I remembered how offended he was that I might think he'd cheat back during the first Epps case.

As the memories flooded in, I realized – it was my fear that was the problem. I was looking for a reason to walk away because I was afraid that he'd hurt me. More than that, I was afraid that if he hurt me, I wouldn't survive.

Could I trust him? Could I let him have my metaphorical heart, trusting that he could take care of it? And if he _didn't _take care of it – could I trust that I would survive losing him?

Then I realized – he had spent the last four years proving I could trust him. He already had my heart. I had no choice.

I stood up to face him. "Yes."

Booth looked stunned. "Yes?"

"Yes, I'll trust you, Booth. I'm sorry; I should have trusted you all along."

He pulled me into a hug. "You're the only one I want, Bones. You _know_ that. I love you."

"I know, Booth, I love you too. I'm sorry. I'm just not used to people staying. Be patient with me, OK?"

He ducked down to kiss me, then grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door.

"Come on, Bones. I'm hungry. Are you going to buy me dinner or what?"

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**Kite? Kidnap? Kelp?**


	11. Keys

**Note: **Sorry this one has taken so long. I've started this one from three different points of view – and 2 different K words - and they just would not cooperate.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks to:

sleeplessinatlanta, causkitty, Meg, chucky89us, 7, foolkiller, 7, River, Quirky-Misty, Nyre the Black Rose, cricketmadalice, Viktorija, Helen3616, Mythbusturr, pandarabbit, Kevin the burrito

who provided the following suggestions for K:

kilogram, karat, karate, kill, kick, kin, kids, kiss/kissing, kangaroos, kit kat bar, kitchen, kudos, keeper, kidnap, kayak, keno, kittens, ketone, kangaroo, ketchup, kaleidoscope, karma, keel haul, kindred, karaoke, kung fu, knife fight, knight, king, killjoy, key, killer, knowledge, knitting, kitchen, Klondike bar

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Friends/partners. Post Hero in the Hold.

* * *

I was the only child in a wealthy family, the heir to a massive fortune. As a kid, I spent hours entertaining myself. The grounds of my house were extensive, and I spent my days digging in the dirt, riding my bike, catching insects, and swimming.

My mom liked things neat, and she'd protest when I came into the house covered in mud. My dad would just laugh and ask me what I'd discovered that day.

When I was in second grade, I had a pet spider named Chromos. One morning, I let him out of his terrarium and couldn't find him before I left for school. I figured I'd find him eventually, so I went off to school without telling anyone.

The maid found him when she was making my bed. She screamed, another maid came running, and they _both_ threatened to quit. I was in a lot of trouble for a couple of days. I had to promise not to let Chromos out again. I still _did_, I just always made sure he was back in his habitat before I left the room.

When my parents died, I could have spent my days managing the Cantilever group. I didn't want to do that, though – I wanted to really make a contribution to the world, so I went to school. I got a couple of doctorates, and transferred my love of bugs and dirt into an awesome job at the Jeffersonian. I spend my days using all I've learned to catch criminals. That's pretty great.

I work with incredible people. My colleagues are the best in their fields. We work very well together. Best of all, we have become friends.

As much as I love my job, though, this Friday afternoon I was tired. It had been a busy week. Well, two weeks, actually – we had all worked the previous weekend. There had been two critical cases in a row, and we were all exhausted.

I was finishing off my reports so that I could go home and enjoy the weekend. I was anxious to leave - some friends were in town, and I was meeting them after work for drinks and dinner. We were then going to spend Saturday rock climbing.

Angela and Cam were on my right, discussing their weekend plans. Dr. Brennan was holed up in her office. She had handed her reports to Cam twenty minutes ago, and I supposed she was working on her next book.

I was five minutes away from being able to leave – well, maybe 10 – when Booth walked in, yelling for his partner.

"Bones!"

When she heard Booth bellow, Brennan came to the door of her office.

"Booth, what's going on? Do we have a new case?"

"No, we don't have a case! What is _this_?" With that, he gestured with a rock he had in his hand.

Brennan walked closer and peered at the rock. "That appears to be the fake rock you keep your spare key in. I don't know why, it's obviously fake. _Anyone_ would know that's not a real rock."

This was odd. Why would Booth be carrying around a fake rock?

"Would _anyone_ have taken the key out of this rock, used it to break in on me while I'm taking a bath, and then _not returned the key?_ I'm locked out of my house!"

Wait a minute, she broke in on him while he was taking a bath? From the look on Angela's face, this was news to her. I did not envy Dr. Brennan the interrogation that I'm sure Angela was planning.

"Oh, I have a key to your house. Would you like to borrow it?"

"You have a key to my house because you _stole it._"

This was _definitely_ better than working on dry reports. Of course, it wasn't going to help me leave early, but I had to appreciate the entertainment value.

"Booth, it makes sense for me to have a key to your place. I needed it when you got kidnapped by the gravedigger. Who can say what will happen in the future? What if you hurt your back again and I need to come and help you? Would you want to have to get up to answer the door?"

"Bones, if you need to get into my house in an emergency, you could use the key in the rock – except you can't, because _it isn't there anymore. _Besides, I might need to get into your place in a hurry – you _were _attacked by Epps there - but I don't have a key to your place"

"You're right."

With that, Brennan turned and went back into her office, returning shortly with her key ring. We all watched while she fumbled to remove a key and handed it to Booth.

"Bones, this isn't my key."

"I know, Booth, it's a key to my place. I agree – if I have your key, you should have mine."

Point to Brennan. She seemed pretty determined to keep that key. I glanced at Cam and Angela. Cam looked like she was trying her best not to break out in laughter.

"But … "

"You're right, Booth, it makes sense for you to have it."

With that, she again went into her office and returned with her jacket and bag.

"OK, Booth, let's go."

"Go? Where are we going?"

"You need my key to get into your house, right? I'll come with you and unlock the door. Do you want to get dinner afterwards?"

Dr. B led the way out the door, with Booth trailing behind her, still looking confused.

As they left, we heard Brennan say, "Your keys are in your house, right? Or do you want to stop somewhere and get another key made?"

I've never seen Booth so out-maneuvered. No way is he getting that key back.

I looked over at Cam and Angela. Cam had given in to laughter at Booth's confusion. Angela, on the other hand, looked extremely curious. Like I said, I did _not_ envy Dr. Brennan when Angela corners her next time.

Making a mental note to get the scoop from Angela next week, I turned back to my reports.

* * *

**Love? Llamas? Linguine?**


	12. Locksmith

**Note: **K was posted yesterday, so check it out if you haven't already.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks to:

sleeplessinatlanta, Kevin the Burrito, chestnutlass, pandarabbit, 7, Meagan, causkitty, Quirky-Misty, Viktorija, cricketmadalice, BonesnBooth, bonesnbooth4ever, ilovebooth

who provided the following suggestions for L:

libra, lovers, lady, local, law, Lamaze class, letters, lark, litter, lilies, limp, little, ladle, lips, lists, ladybugs, Listerine, lava lamps, ligaments, ligature marks, liturgy, lollipop, left-handed, lopsided, lacking, lackey, lawyer (the hot leggy blonde type), loaded gun, lost, larvae, land, Lassie, lock-stock-and-smoking-barrel, liver, lateral, lambs, literature, languages, love, lady bugs, Lincoln memorial, lattes, lapdance, ladies night out, leopards, ladybugs, laughing, loopy, light, large, little, life, lingerie, list, leeches, lady, lanky, laughing, lie, literal, logic, look, locksmith, lake, loud, lance, lab, lily, lover, light-hearted

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Partners/friends

* * *

I've been working in this diner since my youngest started school 35 years ago. My sister used to tell me I should get a better job, but I like this one. Some of the regulars have been coming here since before I started working here. I know what they'll order and how they take their coffee. I know their jobs and their kids' names. We're open on Christmas – I usually work the late shift on Christmas Day. Some of our regulars are here – they have nowhere else to go, and over the years we've become family.

We're not far off the highway, and a lot of our customers are people stopping for a bite to eat before they continue their trip. I like to imagine who they are and where they're going. Sometimes, they're anxious to talk and I get to find out how close I was.

We've served couples on their honeymoon, buses from a high school band trip, friends heading to a funeral, and four separate families heading to the same family reunion. Once, the circus performers stopped by! My, that was a day.

Last week, we had a lovely couple stop in. They were both dressed professionally – she was in a dress with a blazer, and he was in a suit – but they looked exhausted.

It was late, and the diner was almost deserted. They were sitting at one of my tables, so I headed over to hand them menus and offer them coffee. They accepted the coffee and ordered – a burger and fries for him, a salad for her. I sent their order back to the kitchen and busied myself cleaning. As I did, I noticed that they were having an intense discussion. Their heads were bent towards each other, and she had put her hand on his arm in comfort. Neither of them wore wedding rings, but the look he gave her in return was pure love. It reminded me of the way my Zeke used to look at me.

When their food was ready, I brought it by the table and refilled their coffee cups. They ate in silence. Every once in a while, she'd reach out and grab one of his fries. He'd just look up with a small smile on his face.

Since business was quiet, I noticed right away when they finished their food. I asked if they wanted anything else, and the woman smiled and asked what kind of pie we had.

The man immediately said, "Pie? You're going to get pie, Bones?"

She grinned. "No, Booth, but I'm sure _you_ want pie, right?"

We had cherry, apple, and peach pie left. He ordered peach, and I headed off to get it, wondering at the odd names they had for each other. Booth and Bones? What kind of names are those?

He ate his pie, and I noticed him repeatedly offering her a bite. She turned it down, every time, in the manner of someone who had had the same conversation many times.

When they finished, I brought them the bill. He paid immediately, saving the receipt for his expense account. I managed to avoid asking what line of business they were in, although I sure wondered.

With that, they headed out to their vehicle.

I expected them to drive away immediately, so I was surprised when I looked out the window a few minutes later to see them still standing by the vehicle. He looked angry, and was kicking the tires.

I decided to see if there was anything I could do to help, and I headed outside. As I opened the door, I heard her say, "Booth, it's OK. We'll just call a locksmith."

He had calmed down a little and said, "We don't need a locksmith, Bones. I'll get the door open."

That's when I spoke up. "Is there something I can do to help?"

The woman answered. "Yes, we have locked our keys in the car. Do you happen to know a locksmith?"

The man looked annoyed. "Bones, I can get the door open." He turned to me. "Would you happen to have a piece of wire – a wire coat hanger or something like that?"

She didn't seem happy with that. "Booth, it's late. It has been a long day. It's dark, and it's getting colder. Let's just call a locksmith so we can head home."

He replied, "No, Bones, I'm the one who locked the keys in the car. I'll get them out."

She answered, "It's not your fault, Booth. Let's just call a locksmith and get back on the road so that this horrible day will finally end."

Deciding this had gone long enough, I spoke up. "I'm pretty sure we have some wire that might work. I'll get it for you. While you're trying to open the door, I'll call a Barry. He's our local locksmith, and he'll come out to open the door if you have trouble."

The man nodded in agreement.

Before I went inside to get the wire for him, I turned to the woman. "Ma'am, would you like to wait inside?"

She looked over at me, then glanced back to the man. "No, it's OK. I'll come with you and bring the wire out, then wait here. Thanks for your help."

Luckily, Barry was home. He was able to come out right away, and they were on their way in less than half an hour.

I went back to cleaning – it was almost closing time. As I cleaned, I wondered who they were and what kind of business they were in. Oh well, maybe some day they'll be back and I'll find out.

* * *

**Mezzanine, meat, morals, midday?**


	13. Magic

**Note:** Well, we're officially halfway through this series – thirteen down, thirteen to go.

This is another one that took three re-writes, but finally here we are. (The other words I tried were M & Ms and mask/masquerade – but sadly, they did not cooperate.)

Also, if you've been thinking of contributing words but are worried they will be duplicates, don't worry about it – I get duplicates all the time, it just makes me remember them more easily, which occasionally results in a story.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks to:

Pandarabbit, cricketmadalice, Kevin the Burrito, 7, bobbins34, Meagan, teachbones, queen-of-lab-123, felixlee14, Helen3616, Nyre the Black Rose, Quirky-Misty, Miss Klutz

who provided the following suggestions for M:

masquerade, masks, maps, marionettes, marriage, monogamy, movie, monsters, math, maple syrup, milkshakes, modern, mops, morphine, meteor, money, moonshine, mathematician, mom, magic, mystery, mud, March, Mary, mad, munchies, moose, mono, mojo, minute, more, money, music, marriage, mummy, mammals, moron, magic, mad, mayonnaise, medicine, miracle, murder, mouse, myth, mutt, mud, maggots, maglite, museum, mother, mildew, mike & ikes, meoths, mesmerize, moxie, make love not war, make love like war, madness, mayhem, magpie, moth, month, margarita, murder, M & Ms, movies, money, muck-boots, match, mate, millionaire

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Just partners. Probably anytime after the end of season 2.

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I had a date last night – we went for dinner at that Italian place down the street from my apartment. We sat at the table enjoying our food and drinking an excellent bottle of wine, and I was considering taking him home with me. Now that my celibacy project is over, it's like I haven't eaten in 6 months and the whole world is a buffet. Let me tell you, this guy wasn't some unidentified jellied salad – he was the main course. Well, possibly the sinful dessert you can't wait to bite into … where was I? Oh yeah. I was seated facing the door, and I happened to glance up as a familiar figure walked through the door with a blonde woman on his arm.

Booth and his friend were seated within my line of sight, with Booth's back to me. That made it way easier to spy on them. They seemed to be enjoying their conversation, but I couldn't tell much more than that.

I was a little distracted – so much so that my date noticed. Hey, I wanted to have sex, but I wanted to know what Booth was doing with that woman more. I kind of thought Booth had stopped dating, possibly because of deeply hidden feelings for my best friend. Maybe it's just me.

Sadly, my date ended there at the restaurant and I headed home, still wondering about what I'd seen.

Of course, Booth came by this morning, and I immediately cornered him.

"Hey, Booth." From the tone of my voice, I'm sure he knew something was up.

"Hey, Angela. Is Bones around?" He peered around the lab as if expecting her to jump out from behind a pillar or something.

How many times do I have to remind him about basic manners? "It's good to see you, too, Booth. I'm fine, thanks for asking."

He turned his attention back to me and smiled. "I'm sorry, Angela. How are you doing today?"

I grinned back. "I'm fine. By the way, how was your date last night?"

He looked flustered, and – was that _guilty_? "How did you know?"

"I saw you. I was in the restaurant too. You should work on your observation skills. So, tell me about your date."

Somehow, Brennan picked that exact moment to walk up to us. "You had a date?"

Booth look even more embarrassed. "Yes."

Was that a hint of hurt I saw on Brennan's face? "Oh. Are you going to see her again?"

Booth looked at her. "No, I don't think so."

Brennan has never been good at letting things go. "Why not?"

"There was no magic, you know?" Oh, Booth, Brennan will _not_ understand what you mean.

"There's no such thing as magic." See? I told you.

"Not _magic_ like making stuff fly or becoming invisible, just, you know, the feeling when you really click with someone, when you lose track of time talking with them, when you feel your heart race when they're near, when you can't stop thinking about them when they're not around."

"Oh. You mean when your brain secretes …." There we go, a scientific explanation. How these two ever communicate about _anything_, I'll never know.

"Look, Bones, you can claim it's chemicals in the brain, and maybe it is, but it's an amazing feeling, right? …. Bones?"

"I … I don't think I've ever really felt that. I've been attracted to men, but not like that." Oh, Bren, really?

Booth looked as shell-shocked as I felt. "Really?"

"Really. I'm probably just not that type of person."

"But …."

"It's OK, Booth, I have responsibilities, I can't go around losing track of time and daydreaming about some man when I have work to do. Besides, it's not like that's important – Sully said he couldn't stop thinking about me when I wasn't around, but he still left. It's fine. Do we have a case?"

Booth was still having trouble putting a sentence together. Finally, he managed, "No case, I just thought I'd come by for that paperwork."

Brennan turned to head back to her office, presumably to get the paperwork, when Booth said, "Bones?"

She turned to face him, and he walked forward until they were almost touching. "Bones, if you haven't felt the magic, it's not your fault. It just means you haven't found the right guy yet – but you _will_."

She tried to look away, and he gently cupped her chin in his hands and turned her head to face him. "You _will_, Bones. It's out there. I promise."

The look on her face? _And_ on his face? Just partners, my ass.

They stood there, staring into each others eyes, for a _long_ time. For someone who claims not to lose track of time, Brennan certainly didn't seem anxious to go back to work. Gee, what could that mean? Think, Angela, think.

Eventually, Jack dropped a book. That was enough to bring them back to their surroundings, and they headed off to Brennan's office to get the paperwork, leaving with a new hobby – giving them the push they obviously need.

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**Noon, nobody, nightmare?**


	14. Nose

**Note:** I had some trouble replying to reviews this time. If you left me a review (and you were logged in), I definitely tried to reply. If you didn't get the reply, I apologize. I appreciate all of the reviews everyone leaves me.

This one is much more traditional than I usually let them be. Also, I know people like the longer stories, but the length of this one just seemed right. Hope you enjoy it anyway.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks to:

WhiteRose621, chucky89us, Nyre the Black Rose, pandarabbit, deb, 7, sleeplessinatlanta, tvnut014, Quirky-Misty, almostlikeTHElyn, queen-of-the-lab123, cricketmadalice, obsessedaboutbones, felixlee14, Viktorija, wellwritten, Poetgirl925, MonkeyFighter, Jen, Kevin The Burrito

who provided the following suggestions for N:

nightmare, nuisance, neopolitan ice cream, new moon, nurture, nature, no, never, nostalgic, nothing, naptime, noogies, nooner, nightmare, nuggets, noodles, nightlife, nose, Nintendo, Northwestern, nemesis, night, nonsense, nervous, narcoses, notes, narcohypnia, nausea, naïve, nil, nostalgic, neurons, nerves, nuisance, noisette, naïve, nagging, names, night, nasal tract, not rational, numb normalcy, nickname, noise, nuns, normal, narcissism, need, nice, nuclear bomb, nasty, newspaper, nag, nap, necklace, neighbour, nerd, net, news, numbers, newspaper, New York, nachos, notebook, needle, noodles, nod, neck, nest, new, nick of time, never, nickname, nonsense, note, nutriment, necktie, napkin, nudity, nationalism, nativity scene, night-lights, New Year's Eve, narcolepsy, neglect, nincompoop, no-show, nephew, nutcase, nutella, Neanderthal, nap, newspaper, nails, noise, novelty, nightshirt, nickel, norse

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Established romantic relationship

* * *

It was a cool fall day, and the house smelled deliciously like a mixture of tomatoes, onions, and garlic. Brennan looked around the kitchen. It was her night to cook, and dinner was almost ready. The pasta was almost finished cooking, and the sauce was simmering on the stove. Carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower were cleaned, cut, and on a plate along with a small bowl of salad dressing as dip.

It had been a rush to get home in time to cook, and the meal was later than she would have liked. Balancing her domestic responsibilities with her dual careers was difficult, but she firmly believed it was worth it. Sure, she sometimes missed the days when she answered to no one, but she knew that overall she was much happier now. She liked knowing that she was needed, that someone missed her when she wasn't there.

She set the table and brought out the jug of milk and the pitcher of water. The pasta finished cooking, and she drained it and placed the food on the table. She called out "Supper's ready" as she did so, only to be met by a shriek from the living room.

"No! No, Daddy! Give it _back_."

She heard Booth laugh, saying, "Come and get it."

She heard a thud as though someone had toppled over, and then her three-year-old daughter came running into the kitchen, followed by her limping father. She hugged her mother's legs, saying, "Mommy, Daddy took my nose!"

Brennan looked down at her. "Christine, your nose is right there on your face."

Her daughter looked up. "No, Mommy, Daddy took it."

Ignoring Booth's laughter, she crouched down to face her daughter, touching her on her nose lightly. "Christine, your nose is _attached_. No one can take it from you."

Christine shook her head. "Daddy took it, Mommy. I saw it in his hand. All the other kids will laugh at me at preschool if I don't have a nose. Make him give it back."

Brennan stood and turned to her husband. "Booth, did you take her nose?"

Booth made an attempt to look innocent. "Come on, Bones, you said yourself that I couldn't take her nose."

Wanting to get this settled before the food was cold, Brennan asked, "Booth, did you _tell her_ that you took her nose?"

He grinned. "Maybe."

Sighing, she asked, "How did you show her that you had her nose?"

Booth held up his hand, with his thumb between his index and middle fingers. "See? It's her nose."

Turning to her daughter, Brennan said, "Chris, Daddy didn't really take your nose, see? That's just his thumb." She pulled his fingers apart to illustrate her point before continuing, "Your nose is right here on your face where it belongs." Reaching out, she again tapped her daughter on the nose.

Her daughter looked up at her. "Really?"

Brennan nodded. "Really. Come on, let's eat."

Christine looked at her father. "That wasn't very nice, Daddy."

He smiled at her, a look of love on his face. "You're right, squirt, I'm sorry."

They all sat down and soon their plates were filled with food.

After dinner, it was time for Christine's bedtime routine. After she was bathed, read her two stories (that turned into three), and tucked into bed, Booth and Brennan sat on the couch. He had the TV turned to the sports highlights, and she had picked up a document to review for one of her grad students when she set it down and turned to Booth. "You really shouldn't have told her that you took her nose, you know."

Muting the TV, he said, "Come on, Bones, we were just having fun."

She looked disturbed as she replied, "It's a lie."

He turned to face her, saying, "Bones, my grandfather used to do that with me, it's just what you do with kids."

"You know she believes everything you tell her. She was really concerned that she didn't have a nose anymore."

"I'm sorry, Bones. If you're worried about it, I won't do it again."

"It's just … I want her to believe that you'll tell her the truth. It's very disturbing to find out your parents lied to you."

Reaching out, he put his arm around her and pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder. "OK, Bones, I understand. I'll tell her the truth."

He pressed the mute button again as she picked up her document. As she pushed her hair back behind her ear and picked up a pen, he reached over. "Bones? Got your nose."

* * *

**Orangutan? Original? Oscar?**


	15. Over

**Note:** This one is not a happy, fluffy one. It is longer, though. I don't know why it's so filled with pronouns, I hope it isn't too confusing.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks to:

pandarabbit, sleeplessinatlanta, Whiterose621, 7, wellwritten, trinitystargazer3, DakotaaB, ..x, Quirky-Misty, queen-of-lab123, felixlee14, BonesnBooth, stormbinder22, cricketmadalice, Viktorija, teachbones, Kevin The Burrito

who provided the following suggestions for O:

oranges, operation, opinions, obstinate, organic, ocean, options, obesity, opera, osmosis, other, over, olives, Olive Garden, orange, octomom, origami, osculation, operation, ornery, ovulation, OJ, Oscar (the movie), old English sheepdog, omelet, opal, Oregon, Ohio, Orion's belt, Ovaltine, Opie, options, optional, opening, others, Oxicodin, oxiclean, oxygen, occasion/occasionally, opposite, outside, outer-space, opportunity, off, on, off-key, older, OK, orange, octagon, only, octopus, oval, opal, Oscar, onion, old, Oreo, odd, October, Obama, ocean, opposites, obnoxious, oven, oil, one, octo, old, objectify, ogle, out on the table, out in the open, opportunity, opportune moment, obvious, overreacted, ours, only between us, obligation, observe, obstacle, occasion, October 31, office, once upon a time, open, ogre, object, occasion, ocean, oddball, off guard, old, Olympics, obduracy, occult, odds, old-fashioned, open-minded, outfit

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Another one that starts at the beginning of time. You'll figure it out.

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When they met, they didn't trust each other.

She looked at x-rays and told him about injuries and perpetrators. He didn't believe her.

He told her about his gut feelings. She didn't believe him.

As time went on, they learned how to respect each other's perspective, even if they didn't really understand it.

He told her about his past as a sniper. She told him about the day her parents went out Christmas shopping and didn't return.

She met his son. He met her brother.

When she found herself bloody and beaten on the floor of a hotel bathroom, she called him. She told him not to, but he rushed to her side anyway. She never told him that she was glad he did, but somehow he knew.

Time went on, and they grew closer. She was buried alive, and yet they both managed to do what was needed to save her. He dated his ex – her boss. She told herself that finding out about it hurt because he hadn't told her himself.

Her father – a wanted felon - returned, and got away again because she asked him to let him go.

He shot a clown. He still kicks himself for that. He ended up needing a psychological evaluation, and she worked a case with his friend. When his friend asked if it was OK if he asked her out, he couldn't say no. She said yes, and they dated for a while. When his friend asked her to leave with him, to sail the Caribbean for a year, he told her to say yes even while he feared she would. She said no.

He was kidnapped while trying to arrest a murder suspect. She was desperate to get him back – so desperate that she allowed her father to help.

Her protégé went to Iraq, and he didn't stop it. He sometimes wonders if she ever would have forgiven him for that if something had happened over there – but it didn't. It wasn't until after her protégé returned that something awful happened. He wishes he had noticed in time to stop it.

He testified at her father's trial. Her father _should _have received the death penalty, but she saved him (with his help). That's what partners do, right?

A deranged woman tried to kill her. He saved her, but at a very high cost. He was shot, and she thought he was dead for two full weeks. She wonders if she would have survived if he _had_ been dead.

They flew together – to Washington State, to Arizona, to England, to China. Despite the exhaustion and stress of waiting for flights and sleeping on planes, they still got along. Maybe they were so close that they didn't get on each others nerves even under those conditions - or maybe it was because she flew business class and he flew coach.

They spent countless hours in the car. Sure, there were some disagreements – he wouldn't let her drive, and she wouldn't stop changing the radio station – but they both valued that time together.

He was kidnapped and trapped on a ship that was about to be sunk. Again, they worked together and he was saved.

One day, she realized he was hallucinating. She dragged him to the hospital, and he was rushed into surgery. That's the day she realized she loved him. Up until that point, she didn't think love existed as anything other than brain chemistry, but that day she _knew_. She blames all his talk of "eventually" and "magic" and "making love".

It took him too long to wake up from the surgery, and when he did, he was … confused. He thought they were married. He thought he loved her.

It took him a while to know for sure that his love for her wasn't a result of the surgery.

Eventually, he figured it out. His was insecure and she was insecure, so it took longer than it might have – longer than it _should_ have if you ask her best friend … or his best friend. They started dating.

It felt odd – they knew each other better than anyone else, and they had spent _so much_ time and energy denying how they felt that being freed from that was strange. More importantly, though, it felt _right_.

After three months, he realized that he only spent time at his place when he had his son. They decided to move in together, and bought a place big enough for them to share.

Living together brought new challenges. She needed everything to be in its place. He watched more TV than she did. She had become vegetarian. He didn't notice if the bathroom needed cleaning.

She became a stepparent. His son resented her for telling him what to do, and it took a while for the two of them to develop their own relationship. He worried about it. He didn't want to have to make a choice.

As time went on, they developed their own traditions – brunch on Sundays after he got back from church, Friday night takeout, a kiss goodbye before leaving the house. They knew better than anyone how quickly tragedy can strike.

One day, her dad died. She was surprised at how much she regretted and how much it hurt. He tried to help her through it, but, caught up in her grief and pain, she turned away.

She threw herself into her work. When she couldn't stay at the lab any longer, she holed up in her home office and wrote.

After months of constant rejection, he stopped trying. He moved into the spare room and started spending more time at work.

Late one night, he sat at his desk looking at an old, unsolved case file and it hit him – he couldn't go on this way. Something had to change.

She was still writing when he walked into her office. He asked her to talk about them, about their relationship. She said they were fine and refused.

That night, he started looking for a new place.

It took a couple of weeks, but eventually he found a townhouse. As he walked through the empty rooms, all he could think about was when they first saw their place. All the hopes and dreams they had had that day had somehow been lost. He wondered what he could have done to change things.

He made an appointment to come in the next day to sign the lease and headed to the house that had once been his home.

This time, he didn't take no for an answer. He sat down with her to break the news.

"Bones, this isn't working."

The pain she felt when she realized her parents weren't coming back was nothing compared to how she felt when she heard his words. "What?"

"Our relationship is over, Bones."

Still processing the news, she said "Over? What do you mean?"

He couldn't understand why she was so shocked. "We don't talk anymore – we haven't had a conversation in _months_. You don't seem to want anything to do with me. I haven't slept in our bed in months. I don't even know if you've _noticed_. How can this be a surprise?

"But … Booth, you said you loved me." The realization of what was happening had started to hit home, and her voice was filled with pain.

"I did love you, Bones. I _do_. But that's not enough."

She stood up. "I'm not enough for you, so you're leaving. Fine. I _knew_ you were lying about love lasting forever."

Somehow, he had to make her understand. "_You _are enough for me. But Bones, since your dad died, it's like you haven't even been here. I can't keep our relationship alive all by myself. I don't want to lose you, but I can't go on this way. "

"Go, then." Her voice was choked with tears as she left the room.

He couldn't stand hurting her like that, but he was afraid that following her would only prolong the pain, so he packed a suitcase and left.

He had known that they'd still have to see each other – they still worked together, after all. Four days after he left, he summoned all of his courage and stopped by the Jeffersonian to make sure they could still work together.

When she saw him walk in, she turned from the platform and went into her office, slamming the door behind her. Her team watched as he walked to the door and knocked.

She knew that he was the one knocking - it's hard to keep secrets in an office made of glass - so she ignored his knock. That's when he started yelling.

"Bones! Bones, open up."

Furious, she opened the door a crack. "That's Dr. Brennan."

He pushed the door open and walked in.

"Look, I just need to talk to you."

As she sat down at her computer, she said, "I believe, Agent Booth, that you said our relationship was over. I assumed that meant our professional relationship as well as our personal one. From now on, either you work with my grad students or the FBI assigns another agent to work with me. I assure you that I will be supervising my grad students' work – the cases won't suffer."

Despite his frustration and pain at the loss of their romantic relationship, he couldn't imagine not having her in his life at all. "Bones, I only said our relationship was over after you had _already_ given up. I didn't want it to end – and I don't want to lose our partnership. I still want to work with you – and maybe someday we can be friends again."

She was angry – _she_ wasn't the one who decided to end things. "Booth, we are not going to work together any longer. _You_ stopped loving me. _You_ walked away. _You_ decided our relationship was over. That means _our relationship is over_. We aren't partners. We aren't friends. We don't work together. We are _nothing_. Besides, no one stays friends after a break-up. That's just what you say."

He was afraid of her reaction if he touched her, but he had to be close to her. He walked over, stopping about a foot away from her. "I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't. I just wanted _you_ to stop hurting me – because every time you turned away from me, every time you shut me out? That hurt me more than anything has ever hurt before. I didn't stop loving you – I _still _love you. I probably always will. I just couldn't live in the same house as you and not talk to you, not hold you in my arms. Bones, I _know_ how much it hurt you to lose your dad – but to have to sit and watch you grieve without being able to help was killing me. I _tried_ to get you to talk to me _so many times_ – but eventually I realized you didn't need or want me there. That's when I left. "

She drew in a sharp breath as he continued, "I still want to be partners. Hell, I still want to be your boyfriend. But more than that, I want you to be happy. If having me in your life makes you unhappy, then I'll ask for a transfer. I don't want to hurt you more than I already have."

With that, he turned to leave. As his hand reached for the door, her voice stopped him. "Booth? I'm sorry. I felt so much guilt about my dad – about the time we lost – that I didn't know how to deal with it, or how to let you help. Do you think maybe we could have Sweets help us figure out how to make things better? I want you to come home."

He turned and walked towards her. "Sweets? Come on, Bones, he's twelve. Can't we get a _grown up_ to help us?"

With that, he pulled her into a bear hug and leaned down to say, "I'll call him and set up an appointment."

He could feel her nod against his chest. Releasing her, he said, "Could we go for dinner tonight? Just to talk? I miss you."

She smiled up at him. "OK."

He smiled back, then walked past her curious colleagues, whistling as he walked.

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**Plaid? Penguins? **


	16. Pumpkin

**Note:** Thanks so much for all of your comments about Over! I was a little concerned about that one – it was much angstier (yes, that's a word … now) than usual, so I appreciate all of you taking the time to let me know you liked it.

Sorry this one has taken so long, it has been a crazy few days. I'm not totally happy with this one, but it has an expiry date (or today … or yesterday, depending on where you live) so here we go.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks those who provided the following suggestions for P:

pie, puns, pregnancy test, Poseidon, puppy, purity, pure, pudding, passage, puny, pendant, prisoner, prison, price, peace, persistence, parade, plays, place, patchwork, pillar of support, peanuts, penguin, pickles, penile dysfunction, pregnancy, poker, pristine, positive, peter piper picked a pepper, purse, puckish, puck, point, pincushion, purple, pandas, phalanges, prescription, pineapple, Parker, pre-school, playground, pokemon, polka dots, pretend, party, punishment, playboy/girl, pirates, period, potato, pool, paper, punch, preposterous, point/pointless, pen, plan, poke, playful, plenty, patella, patent, patient, psychology, psychic, physical, plenty, pare, pair, peck, plaque, plague, paper, photo/photography, perfect, people-watching, popcorn, poppies, perfume, poetry, passion, potty training, plums, paparazzi, pride, promises, priorities, paint, paintballs, Pampers, porcupine, porcelain, pork, plants, planets, president, pilgrims, pencil, point, pizza, pasta, pain, paranoid, parent, park, passionate, PhD, photo, picky, pig, pimp, pillow, poet, pointless, polite, pool, practice, prison, promotion, protect, proud, punishment, package, Phantom of the Opera, painters, people, pants, pottery, Princess bride, pain, plants, pastries, peace, prodigy, pay, pain in the ass, panic, partner, park, patience, pain killers, paleness, paradise, POV, polygamy, pork, pencil, Pina Colada, pepper spray, prayer, Polaroid, packing, poor, picturesque, popular, poles, prude, pride,

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Friends/partners.

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Saturday mornings I like to sleep in. I get up around 7, and then do a bit of writing before my 10:30 karate class. After class, I have a nice healthy lunch, then I head in to work. I get _so much_ more work done on the weekend when no one else is around.

Today, though, I slept in later than usual. You see, last night was the annual Jeffersonian Halloween party.

I don't really enjoy those events – it's all political small talk – but last night was fun. Hodgins got Wendell to help him spike the punch. Angela is still on her celibacy kick, and Clark spent a lot of his time avoiding her. Mr. Nigel Murray drank too much punch and told me to call him Nigel.

Cam invited Dr. Sweets, who invited Daisy. I know she got on my nerves when I first met her, but I have to admit that it's nice to know someone who is as passionate about forensic anthropology as I am.

Booth was there as well. Apparently, he is required to attend as part of his job as FBI liaison. He didn't seem to be too upset about it. In fact, we laughed and danced and he seemed to have a pretty good time.

When the party ended, we all went to the diner for some food. Everyone seemed to have a good time. I was going to order fruit salad, but Booth ignored me and ordered fries for me. Hodgins, Cam, and Wendell had nachos. Angela has some chocolate-filled milkshake. Booth had pie, of course. By the time I got home, it was after three. I didn't fall asleep until after 4.

I woke up just in time for my karate class. I was definitely not up to my usual standards in class. Afterwards, I just wanted to take a nap. I had just gotten home and was eating my lunch when the phone rang.

"Hey, Bones, guess what?"

"What, Booth?"

"I've got Parker for Halloween! Rebecca called me this morning. I'll pick you up in 15 minutes – we're going to carve pumpkins, and then we're going trick-or-treating!"

I'm glad he gets to spend time with his son, but he doesn't need to include me just because he feels sorry for me. "Booth, I have work to do."

"Come on, Bones, you have to help us! Parker says you'd be good at carving the pumpkin because you work with bones. He says that's cool!"

"Angela would probably be better at carving the pumpkin. I'm not very artistic." I must admit that the idea of Booth calling Angela for help makes me feel a little left out, but she'll be better at carving a pumpkin than I would.

"But we want _you_ to help us! Carving a pumpkin is a tradition, you have to help us. "

"Actually, Booth, traditionally people carved turnips, not pumpkins. Carving pumpkins only started …"

"Bones, let's skip the history lesson, OK? Carving pumpkins is _our_ tradition, you know, our family, Now get ready, I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"Booth, I'm glad you get to spend Halloween with your son, but I don't want to intrude. You said it yourself, it's your family's tradition. I'll see you on Monday."

"Bones, we've talked about this before, you're my family too. I'm leaving now. If you aren't ready when I get there, you're coming in whatever you're wearing. "

With that, he hung up. He couldn't be serious, could he?

I'd better go take a shower.

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**Quiet? Quality? Quirk?**


	17. Quit

**Note:** The time changed last night. I hate the time change – I always seem to get less sleep, regardless of which way the clocks go. It was a busy day, but the Halloween decorations are away and the next fight is done.

This is a long one. In fact, I think it's the longest one so far. Some of you may have noticed that the happy ones are short, so … yeah, this one's not so happy. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks those who provided the following suggestions for Q:

Quilt, queen, quirk, quiz, quill, quagmire, quickie, quality, quantity, quiet, quintuplets, quell, query, question, quiche, quark, quay, quickstep, Quinquagesima, quiz, quixotic, quacks, quiet time, quitting, quality, quail, quickly, quite, qwerty, quarter, quarter horse, quarterback, quarter mile, quartet, qualify, quarantine, question, quest, quick, q-tip, quelea, qui vive, quarrel,

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Set in the future. You'll figure it out.

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"Bren! Over here!"

As Brennan descended the escalator to the baggage claim area, her attention was caught by a familiar voice. There was Angela, waving frantically at her. She lifted her hand to return the wave.

Admittedly, she had only been back in D.C. for 5 minutes, but she was amazed at how familiar it felt. She was surprised – she had expected it to feel different. She had been gone for two years, after all.

She stepped off the escalator and wove through the crowd until she reached Angela. Angela immediately wrapped her in a hug, talking a mile a minute. "Is that all of your luggage, or do we need to wait for the rest of it? How was the flight? You're staying with us, right? Hodgins has lots of room. I'm _so glad_ you came for my wedding."

Brennan had friends in Egypt, but there was no one in her life there that she was as close to as she was to Angela. When Angela had told her she was getting married, there was no choice – she knew she had to come back for the wedding. If she was being perfectly honest, she had to admit to herself that she had wanted to come back for a long time. Angela's wedding was the perfect excuse.

When Angela finally stopped for breath, Brennan attempted to answer. "Of course I came for your wedding, Ang. You're my best friend. The flight was long, but fine. I'm glad to be here. This is all of my luggage, I didn't pack much since I'm just here for the weekend. Yes, I'll stay with you if you have room. I know the wedding is on Saturday, what do you need me to do?"

Leading the way to the car, Angela continued her monologue. "Well, this afternoon I need you to try on your bridesmaid dress so we can have it altered before the wedding. Tonight a bunch of us are going out for the bachelorette party. Tomorrow we're going to the spa – massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, the whole works. Tomorrow night is the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. Saturday is the wedding. I'm so glad you're here! You leave on Sunday, right?"

Brennan laughed. "Yes, late Sunday, I'm going to spend the day with my dad, Russ, Amy, and the kids. I don't remember you talking this much."

"I'm excited that you're here! I haven't seen you in two years!"

"I invited you to come and visit last summer, but you couldn't make it, remember?"

'I know, Sweetie, and I wanted to, but it just didn't work out. You're here now, though, and we are going to have a great time!"

They arrived at the house, and Angela showed Brennan to her room. Brennan took a much-anticipated shower, they ate a quick lunch, and then they headed off to meet Cam at the bridal shop.

It was just like old times – if old times had involved trying on dresses and talking about hair styles instead of analyzing dead bodies and solving murders. The three of them laughed at the thought of the giant bows on the front of the first set of bridesmaid dresses all of those years ago. Brennan's eyes filled with tears when Angela mentioned that Zach was getting a day pass from the hospital to attend the wedding. Michelle was in university, and Cam shared stories of her phone calls home.

Finally, Brennan got tired of wondering. She didn't miss the look Angela and Cam exchanged when she asked, "Will Booth be at the wedding?"

Angela sat down beside her and said, "Bren, we haven't seen Booth much since you left. He came around a couple of times, but then he requested a transfer. I think it was too hard to be in the lab without you there. We've seen him maybe three times since then, but we _did_ invite him. He replied that he's coming – and he's bringing a date."

Cam added, "Teresa. I'm pretty sure he's bringing Teresa. They've been dating for a few months now."

Brennan's smile was shaky as she said, "That's nice. It will be good to see him again." With that, she excused herself and went into the bathroom.

Angela looked at Cam. "You know, I love Brennan, but sometimes I get so _angry_ with her. What was she thinking, taking off like that? Did she think Booth would wait around forever?"

Placing her hand on Angela's, Cam said, "He loved her. When she left, he was lost. I never really understood why he didn't go after her."

Angela nodded. "I know. I thought he would. Sometimes I think Brennan did too."

The sun was shining and the air was crisp on the day of the wedding. The morning was a rush. Hair appointments were followed by make-up appointments, then Angela, Brennan, and Cam had a quick lunch and got dressed.

After the simple ceremony, the wedding party posed for more pictures than Brennan thought possible. There were pictures of the bride and groom, pictures of the bridesmaids, pictures of the groomsmen, pictures of the entire wedding party, and pictures of the bride and groom with family and friends. Finally, it was time for the reception.

Most of the guests were already in the hall when the wedding party finally arrived. As they walked in, Brennan immediately noticed Booth talking with a blonde woman on the left side of the room. Apparently, her "Booth radar" still worked after two years of neglect.

Everyone enjoyed the scrumptious meal. The toasts were short, and soon the dancing started. Looking around the room at all of the happy couples, Brennan felt the need to escape. Deciding that no one would notice if she stepped outside for a couple of minutes, she ducked out onto the patio.

The night was clear, and she could see more stars than she would have expected. She was looking for Delphinus when she heard a voice behind her.

"Hi, Bones."

She pasted a smile on her face and turned. "Booth! Hi! It's good to see you." Moving close, she gave him a quick hug.

He hesitated a second before returning the hug, then the arms that were so familiar to her were around her again. "I didn't expect to see you here, Bones."

She shrugged. "Angela is my best friend. I had to come."

Silence stretched between them, and Brennan struggled to find something to say. It used to be so _easy_ to talk to him.

Finally, Booth broke the silence. "How's Egypt?"

Happy for something to talk about, Brennan answered, "Oh! It's good. The dig is great, we've made some amazing finds."

He smiled at her. "Good. I'm glad you're happy."

"You too. Cam was telling me about you and Teresa."

His smile seemed a bit forced as he said, "Yes. We've been dating for four months now. It's going well."

"Good, good." Brennan couldn't believe how much hearing him talk about another woman hurt, even after all that time. Anxious to end the conversation, she said "Well, I should get back."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

She turned to go back inside, only to be stopped by his voice. "Bones? Why did you leave?"

She turned back. "I explained it to you before I left, Booth. I had the opportunity to be part of this prestigious dig, and I decided to take it."

She had forgotten how often he invaded her personal space until he took a step forward. "There's more to it than that, Bones. We were an amazing team. We solved crimes, we caught criminals, but more than that, we were friends. You were my _best_ friend. Why did you quit? Why did you throw that away?"

Ducking her head slightly to avoid his intense gaze, she replied, "I had to make a choice, Booth. I chose Egypt. I didn't intend to hurt you." Happy with her half-truth, she again turned to go.

He wasn't happy with the answer, and he stepped in front of her to block the door. "Why? Was … was it me? Did _I_ do something to make you leave?"

She smiled a sad smile. "It wasn't what you did, Booth. It was what you _couldn't_ do."

In the second it took him to react, she ducked around him and went back into the reception hall. He caught up to her two feet inside the door, spinning her around to face him. "What I couldn't do? What does that mean?"

She pulled back, saying, "It doesn't matter now. You have Teresa, and I'm in Egypt."

Booth's mind stumbled to process that information. What he couldn't do had something to do with Teresa? Did that mean …? "Did you … were you … why did you leave, Bones?"

Noticing that they were starting to attract attention, Brennan grabbed his arm and dragged him back outside. "Booth, it was a good career move, but you're right, that wasn't the whole story. Before I left, I realized I had fallen in love with you. I knew you didn't feel the same way, so I left. I needed space to get over it. Besides, we were too close, you wouldn't have found someone else with me here, and I wanted you to be happy. And it worked, right? You have Teresa, and you're happy. I'm glad. Now can I get back to the reception?"

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Booth sat down on an empty patio chair. 'Wait a minute. You were in love with me, and you _left_? You didn't even _tell_ me?"

Brennan pulled a chair over and sat down beside him. "Booth, you didn't feel the same way. You told me dozens of times. I just didn't want it to be awkward. It was better for both of us if I left – so I did."

Stunned, Booth said, "When, Bones? When did I tell you that I wasn't in love with you?"

Wishing she could be anywhere else, but knowing she had to tell him the truth, Brennan replied, "You didn't call me when you faked your death. You called me 'Dr. Burn in Hell'. You said you loved me in a professional way. Should I go on?"

Booth obviously hadn't realized how she had interpreted his words. His mind raced, trying to find a way to explain. Brennan sat there, concerned that she had said something wrong, until finally he said, "Bones, I _was_ in love with you. I just … you said _so many times_ that love was just a chemical in the brain. I was afraid that if I told you how I felt, you wouldn't believe me. Besides, I've always thought that one day I'd get married and have kids. Even after Parker was born and Rebecca wouldn't marry me, I thought it would happen, you know? Admitting I was in love with you meant giving up on those dreams, and I was scared. The sad part is that _not_ admitting that I loved you is what made you leave.

"Bones, when you left I was miserable. I missed you _so much_. I couldn't stand going to the Jeffersonian without you there, so I requested a transfer. The squints reminded me of you, so I stopped spending time with them. Finally, I decided that I needed to stop moping. I started dating again, and I met Teresa. I like her, Bones, but seeing you again made me realize that I'll never feel about her the way that I felt – the way that I _feel_ – about you."

Brennan's eyes filled with tears. "When I left, I missed you _every day_ – but that was a long time ago. I went on with my life. I went to work, I met new people – and you did too. Booth, I know you're emotional. It's a wedding, and we haven't seen each other in years, but let's not make something of this that it isn't. We're not the same people we were two years ago. It was good to see you, but I'm leaving tomorrow. Any chance we might have had has passed. Go. Dance with Teresa, wish Angela and Jack well, and be happy. I'll go back to Egypt, and I'll work on the dig. Maybe sometime in the future we'll run into each other and you can tell me all about your wife and kids. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the reception."

As she reached for the doorknob, Booth spoke. "So that's it? You're just going to quit?"

Exasperated, she said, "_Quit? _There's nothing to quit, Booth! We haven't seen each other in _two years_."

He stepped towards her, backing her into the door. "Oh, there's _something_ to quit. We were _friends_. We were _in love_. Sure, we haven't seen each other in a couple of years, but _I still love you_ – and I think you still love me. I think you know that, too – and you're scared."

"Booth, you're being ridiculous. Maybe we would have had a chance back then, but we live on different _continents_. There's nothing to quit. Whatever we had – whatever we _could have had_ – that time has passed."

He placed one hand on either side of her, trapping her against the door. "I. Still. Love. You. You. Still. Love. Me. We're not going to quit because of _geography_."

"But …" Her protest was stopped by the pressure of his lips.

The kiss was everything he'd ever dreamed it would be, everything she'd ever dreamed it would be. It wasn't until another guest tried the door that it ended. When it did, though, everything they had been avoiding came rushing back.

"Bones, I have to go take Teresa home. I need to tell her I can't see her anymore."

"Booth …"

"She deserves more than a man who is in love with someone else. Look, Bones, I know you're worried about starting something with me, and I know you live somewhere else now, but will you have breakfast with me tomorrow? I miss you."

Brennan wanted to say no. She had spent a long time moving on, and she was afraid that letting him into her life again would put her right back where she'd started, but she had missed him too. "Yes. I'll have breakfast with you tomorrow."

"Great!" With that, Booth stepped through the door to find his date.

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**Reality? Rabbit? Rainbow?**


	18. Relationship

**Note:** This was supposed to be a light and fluffy one after Q's angst. Oops.

(It was also supposed to be a completely different R word, but these people _will not cooperate._)

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks those who provided the following suggestions for R:

Rabbit hole, roulette, ragamuffin, realism, respiration, restoration, redemption, repair, race, ratatouille, ring, rap, return, reaping, recline, retirement, respect, raccoon, rascal, rape, rash, rapids, rich, rest, record, reach, rat, revolution, rebellion, radius, radio, remember, reality, regal, reminisce, roads, rummage, recyclables, reassess, reminder, reveal, rundown, run, rehash, Romeo, rattle, rowdy, revenge, renaissance, regret, rift, review, rain, range, reality, Rebecca, Rio, Roxie, rank, Rhode Island, raccoons, reception, Rumplestiltskin, Rachel Ray, Rocky, Rambo, ramp, ripple, rainstorm, romantic, real, reality, race, radiant, rainbow, rain, rendezvous, ready, realize, reason, reassure, reconcile, reflection, release, religion, rhetoric, ride, right, ring, rollerskates, roommate, rose, rules, rodent, reptile, Ralph, reindeer, rascal, real, rush, ransom, radio, rack, rear, reason, religion, right, running away, rainbow, rank, realization, reason, remorse, relationship, rapport, rhetorical, reason, rock, reverend, rhinoceros, role play, reason, right, ribbit, rose, red, ravishing, reality, rocky road ice cream, red, relocation, rabies, race, radioactive, raisins, rain, rara, raiser, rackets, rag doll, rapture, reap, rainbow rabbits

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Set slightly in the future - but not very far.

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If you ask my son, he'll tell you I'm not afraid of anything. That's the way he sees me – brave and strong. That's not true, though. I'm scared of lots of things. Parker getting hurt. Clowns. Losing my partner to a bullet, or a mad man, or because she finds out that I'm in love with her and she runs.

We've worked together for years now. We've both been kidnapped, we've been in life-or-death situations, we've even gone undercover together. We survived, and as we survived, we got closer.

Somehow, I started comparing every woman I met to my Bones. Do you know how awkward it is to be out on a date with a woman while thinking about a work colleague? I do. It's why I stopped dating.

I was scared, though. A lot of the people who have claimed to love her walked out of her life. I was scared that if I told her that I loved her, she'd panic and push me away preemptively. I was afraid that she didn't feel the same way I did, and that she'd reject me. At the same time, I was afraid of what being in love with her meant for me, and for my life. I stayed quiet.

I continued to be her partner. We worked on cases, and we ate at the diner or the bar. We hung out together at work functions. We kept going to therapy. She told me about dates she'd gone on, and never seemed to notice that I didn't talk about dating.

The part of me would have been content to go on like that forever warred with the part of me that was _afraid_ that we'd go on like that forever.

That's not what happened, though.

It's not that I finally broke down and told her how I felt. Instead, last night I opened my door to see my partner looking hotter than I had ever seen her before. I don't know how to describe the dress she was wearing – it was short and tight and there were these strappy things on her shoulders. The shoes could have been used as a deadly weapon. Knowing her, she would know exactly how to use them, too. She looked beautiful. Of course, she always looks beautiful.

It was only about 7:30, and from the way she looked I assumed she was stopping by on the way to meet a date. I already hated him, just because she had dressed like _that_ for him.

I hadn't been expecting her, but naturally I asked if she wanted to come in. She was nervously twisting her hands together, and I wondered if something had happened. She opened her mouth to talk, then the next thing I knew, she was pressed up against me, her lips on mine.

The night is a blur after that, a mix of the feel of her hands on my body, the taste of her skin, and the sound of her gasps as our bodies joined for the first time.

It was an amazing night. Sex – no, making love – for the first time with someone I know _so well_ was beyond anything I've ever experienced.

As I lay there, watching her sleep, a look of peace and happiness on her face, I wondered – what did she want? Did she want a one-night stand, or did she want a real relationship? We hadn't discussed anything before we fell into bed together, and I was afraid that this could tear us apart for good.

After a while, her eyes opened and she smiled at me.

"Good morning."

I couldn't keep from touching her for one more second, so I reached over to push her hair behind her ear as I said, "Good morning."

I was afraid she'd leave, so I was surprised when she asked whether I minded if she took the first shower. I was glad she asked – finding towels and something for her to wear after her shower gave me something to focus on other than my terror.

While she was in the shower, I frantically dug through the fridge, looking for anything that could be used to make a reasonably healthy breakfast. I didn't think she'd appreciate one of the pop tarts I claim I keep around for Parker. Finally, I decided on scrambled eggs, toast, and apple slices. I busied myself with the food, and by the time she walked out of the bathroom, it was on the table.

Conversation over breakfast flowed naturally, which was amazing considering that I was still in a state of panic. I'm sure she noticed. How could she _not_ notice that I was having trouble stringing two sentences together? She didn't have that problem – as we ate, she kept up the conversation, talking cheerfully about her plans to meet Angela for lunch and the latest shipment of ancient bones the Jeffersonian had received.

Finally, I had to ask. "Bones? You coming here last night? What was that about?"

She stopped talking and seemed to have trouble meeting my eyes. "I just … we spend a lot of time together, and you're a man and I'm a woman … I have _needs_, Booth, and sometimes I think you're attracted to me, and I thought …"

Her sentence trailed off. I felt a huge weight settle on my chest as I processed what she had said. She had used me as a glorified sex toy – anyone would have done.

I could feel the muscles in my jaw clench. "So you needed to get laid, and you figured I wouldn't mind helping you out?"

I couldn't sit there another minute, so I pushed my chair back and stood. "Look, let yourself out when you're done, OK? I'll see you at work." With that, I turned to leave the room.

I was at the door when she spoke.

"I didn't hear you object, Booth. You were fine with it last night. I'm sorry you feel guilty, but you _could_ have said 'no'."

_That_ made me angry. "I didn't realize you were using me, Bones.", I shouted.

She was shouting as well. "Come on, Booth, what were the options? It's not like you want a _relationship _with the geeky science girl."

"How _dare_ you? When have I _ever_ implied that I think about you like that? I thought we were _friends._ When you showed up last night, I thought you were ready for us to become _more._"

"Really." Her laughter mocked me. "How many of your friends have you introduced me to? The only one of your friends I've ever met was Cam, and I only know _her_ because she's my boss. You didn't tell me that you used to date her – _Angela _told me that. You don't even introduce me to other FBI agents. We both know you're ashamed of me."

"I don't introduce you to other FBI agents because you seem to _date _every one you meet – except for me. Apparently I don't meet your high standards – at least I didn't until last night. Then again, we aren't _dating_, are we?"

"Damn right, we're not." I'm sure she would have liked to storm out, but since she was wearing my robe, that was a little impractical. Instead, she pushed past me, headed to the bedroom to get her clothes. Her eyes glistened with tears, and the sight ripped my heart out.

I was waiting in the living room when she came out of the bedroom in last night's dress. She walked past me without a word, and was almost at the door when I spoke. "I'm not ashamed of you, Bones. I just … look, everyone who sees us thinks we're together. Some days I get tired of explaining that we're not. It's easier not to introduce you to people."

She put her hand on the door knob. "It doesn't matter, Booth. I'll see you on Monday."

I couldn't let her leave like that. "Bones, I do want a relationship with you. Not just the friendship and partnership we have now, but the whole thing. When you kissed me last night, I thought that that's what you wanted too."

Tension radiated from her as she stood there, her hand still on the door knob. At least she hadn't left yet.

"Do you ... Bones, it's up to you. We can go back – be friends and partners – or we can go forward. I want to move forward – I want to take you on dates and fall asleep with you at night. I want to bring you soup when you're sick. I want to be the one you tell when you're happy, and when you're sad. If that's not what you want, we'll go back. I don't know how to do that, but we'll figure it out, because I don't want to lose you. I need to know, Bones. What do you want?"

I waited for an answer for the longest 6 seconds of my life. Finally, she said, "OK".

I wasn't sure what that meant. "OK?"

"OK. We can try dating. It scares me, but I trust you, Booth."

Relief flooded through me. "OK. Bones, will you go for dinner with me tonight?"

A beautiful smile lit up her face. "Yes, Booth, I will."

I reached her in three steps and pulled her in to a giant hug. "It'll be OK, Bones."

She grinned up at me. "That's what _you_ think. _You're _not the one who has to listen to Angela at lunch today."

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**Sunset, small, scone?**


	19. Saint

**Note:** Aaarg! It took a long time to get my head around this one.

Thanks to all who reviewed - and thanks those who provided the following suggestions for S:

Sunday, sundae, singing, Stephanie Meyer, salsa, science vs. religion, scotch, skin, soup, superheroes, sunset, submarines, sniper, sneezing, survivors, stabbed, scan, scar, smile, smart, skull, scandal, scurry, scum, short, skirt, shirt, sample, slime, sandals, substandard/standard, sorry, slow, sandwich, salad, sweet, sugar, Santa Claus/Saint Nick, saints, soup, sex, sand, sane, sibling, stop, Sully, scone, Seeley, sound, Sweets, sugar, still, sign, signal, ship, secrets, saying, society, soul, scared, serious, smell, soldier, sabbatical, socks, squeeze, slinky, Sabbath, sabotage, social, sad, safe, skate, scoot, story, scary, stool, school, smartass, serendipity, succulent, stupid, stinker, stalker, stability, scream, silly, sad, stakes, steak, stitch, serotonin, sucrose, satin, silk, somber, sober, sleepover, sherbet, sofa, sin city, siren, Superman, senior, sensitive, stupid, secret

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Partners/friends, post Beaver in the Otter.

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George Burns once said "Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city". Five years ago, I would have agreed with him.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but sometimes it was easier to be in New York – close enough to visit often, but far enough that they couldn't just drop in. I had an apartment I could afford in a neighborhood I adored. I had a job doing important work. I had friends and a life that I loved.

About four years ago, my dad was rushed to the hospital with chest pains. I was _so _scared­_._ I wanted to be there, but I couldn't. New York had never felt as far from D.C. as it did that day. My dad was fine – it was nothing serious – but that's when I decided that I needed to start looking for a job closer to home.

I was lucky – it didn't take too long before I was interviewing to become the head of the forensics department at the Jeffersonian. I was thrilled – it would be a great career move, as well as a move that would bring me back to D.C. and closer to my family.

This job gives me more management responsibilities as well as facilities that are far superior to the ones I had at my last job. It's so nice to work with state of the art equipment instead of the outdated and kludgy stuff I used to use.

Of course, the best part of being here at the Jeffersonian is the entertainment. I was reminded of that when I saw Dr. Brennan walk in, followed closely by Booth. I wasn't sure, but it looked like Booth's hair was wet, and he was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers with no socks. The clothes were wrinkled. If I had to guess, I would have said they had been sitting in a bag for a long time. Naturally, I wanted to know what had happened.

"Hello Dr. Brennan, Booth. Did you guys go swimming?"

I _knew_ I could count on Dr. Brennan to answer. "Just Booth. He fell into a water hazard on the golf course as I was examining the remains."

I obviously didn't hide my smirk quickly enough, because it earned me a glare from Booth. "I didn't _fall in_, Bones. I _slipped_ when I ran over to see why you called me."

"I didn't expect you to come running so fast that you would _slip_ into the pond." Dr. Brennan looked at me. "You should have seen it, Booth looked like a drowned cat."

"It's drowned _rat_, Bones, and it wasn't funny! I could have hurt myself, you know."

Dr. Brennan looked disturbed at the thought.

Hoping I could change the course of the conversation, I said, "Did you take off your medal when you changed?"

Booth looked acutely uncomfortable, while Dr. Brennan looked confused. "Medal?"

Already regretting that I'd brought the subject up, I explained, "Booth always wears his St. Christopher medal, but he's not wearing it now."

Dr. Brennan examined him as if through a microscope. "Cam is right, Booth, you're not wearing your medal. Did you lose it?"

His jaw tense, Booth answered, "No."

Dr. Brennan has never been known for letting things drop. "Well? Where is it, then? Did you leave it at home?"

Booth leaned towards her, saying softly, "Can't we just drop it, Bones?"

She had obviously caught on that something about the medal bothered him, but was unsure why. "Is everything OK, Booth? You're acting strangely."

Picking up her concern and not wanting to worry her unnecessarily, he admitted, "I gave it to Jared for his trip to India, OK?"

If anything, this added to her confusion. "You loved that medal, Booth. You always wear it. Why did you give it to Jared?"

"St. Christopher is the patron saint of travelers, Bones. I just wanted Jared to have St. Christopher watching over him on his trip."

"But … it's just a piece of metal, Booth. How could it protect him?"

"You believe it's just a piece of metal, Bones, but I believe it's more. My grandfather gave it to me as a teenager. It kept me safe then, it kept me safe in the war, and it has kept me safe every day since I got back."

"I don't see how it could have done all of that."

"I'm not sure I can explain it, Bones. St. Christopher is the patron saint of travelers. That means that he intercedes for travelers with God. The medal is a reminder to ask St. Christopher for help. Does that make sense?"

From the look on her face, that didn't help much. "But .. that's just superstition, Booth. It's like not walking under a ladder or changing your direction when you see a black cat. You survived the war because you were careful and lucky, not because of some magic medal."

I knew that Seeley was religious and that Dr. Brennan was not, but I'd never been present during one of their religious discussions.

"Bones, I believe that God exists, that he looks after me, and that the saints help. I know you don't."

"It's an irrational belief, Booth. There's no point in believing that some supernatural being is going to save you. You have to look after yourself."

"Bones, believing in God doesn't mean you just sit around waiting for him to rescue you. You still need to help yourself."

"Then what's the point?"

He stepped towards her. "Isn't it nice to think that when you're in trouble, someone _cares_ and is trying to help you? When you and Hodgins were buried alive, wouldn't it have been nice to think that someone was looking out for you?"

I don't think Seeley realized how much faith she had in him until she said, "But … I knew _you _were trying to find me. I knew you wouldn't give up until you did."

He was stunned, but still determined to explain. "Bones, I almost _didn't_ find you in time. You were _so close_ to running out of air."

She looked at him with absolute trust in her eyes. "But you _found_ me. You pulled me out of the car and I was fine."

Some of the anguish I had seen in him that day was reflected on his face. "Bones, I found you because I was looking in the right direction. If I hadn't been, I wouldn't have seen the dust from the explosion you set off. I believe that God is the one who made sure I was looking the right way."

As close as they are, they rarely touch, saving it for times of great emotion. She obviously saw his torment, because she put her hand on his arm. "You _found _me, just like I knew you would."

As I watched, she used her grasp on her arm to pull him towards her office. "Maybe I should have been wearing a St. Christopher medal. Would that have made it easier for you to find me?

He chuckled. "No, Bones, you need a medal of St. Jude."

"Why?"

As they walked through the door to her office, I heard his answer. "He's the patron saint of desperate situations."

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**Tempest? Teapot?**


	20. Tabloid

**Note:** This one was based on an idea I originally had for P (paparazzi). It didn't work out then, but it works much better here. I hope you guys don't hate me too much!

I'm enjoying hearing what all of you think of these. Thanks for reviewing!

Thanks as well to those who provided the following suggestions for T:

temperance, tango, teal, tarnish, tantrum, tumble, trouble, telescope, tornado, tombstone, temptation, tender, teapot, ticklish, tiger, Tigger, tears, terrapin, treasure, tea, tip, theft, teal, tack, tuck, tin, tug, tag, team, telemarketer, threat, Thanksgiving, toll-bridge, terrible, today, tomorrow, treaty, table, tabloid, trick, tease, tension, tactful, touch, Thai food, take away, talk, tall, target, taste, teacher, team, tears, tempting, towel, test, thank you, theory, throw away, time, tie, tipsy, tuxedo, topaz, top secret, toxic, travel, treat, trip, trouble, truth, trust, turn on, tussle, TV, torrential downpour, torment, Tuscan, tetrodetoxin, tact, tattoo, team, temper, tooth fairy, train, tutu, thumb, tar, tape, t rex, teletubbies

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Friends/partners. Set in the future – I'd say late season 5.

* * *

It was Monday morning – specifically, the Monday after the opening of the movie based on Dr. Brennan's first book. She had taken Thursday and Friday off to attend the official premiere in Los Angeles. She was supposed to be back at work this morning, and I could see Angela glance at the door every couple of minutes.

Dr. B finally got in a little after 9. She said hello to all of us on the platform, and then went into her office. As I had expected, Angela followed.

They were in there for a while. I'm sure Angela wanted to hear all about the premiere, but I suspect her _real_ interest lay in the fact that this trip was Dr. B's first with her new boyfriend, Christopher.

I was busy analyzing some soil samples for the Justice Department, and I didn't pay too much attention to the conversation going on in Dr. B's office. Around twenty minutes later, I saw Daisy Wick barreling through the lab, a magazine of some kind in her hand. I didn't want to get sucked into conversation with her, so I made a point of concentrating on my work and waved her off. I needn't have worried, though, because she headed into Dr. Brennan's office. I could hear her squeal from my station.

Not more than a minute later, Daisy came out of the office. She spotted me and headed directly towards me. I considered finding a task that would take me in the opposite direction, but it was too late – she was already standing beside me.

Before I could make my excuses, Daisy was shoving the magazine she still carried at me and talking at full speed, as usual. "Did you see this? Look at these pictures, aren't they _adorable?_ They look _so cute_ together. I wonder if they'll get married – the author of the article thinks they will. Wouldn't that be _awesome_? Do you think I could be a bridesmaid? Dr. Brennan is like a sister to me, you know."

As she talked, I looked at the magazine. Well, magazine might be too kind – it was a tabloid. There were several pictures of Dr. B and Christopher at the premiere. They were dressed to the nines, and Christopher was gazing at her in adoration. Dr. Brennan, on the other hand, looked slightly uncomfortable. The heading at the top read "Wedding Bells?", and text around the pictures was filled with speculation about their relationship – how serious they were, whether marriage was in their future, and whether he was the inspiration for Andy Lister.

Booth was going to be _pissed_.

I managed to get rid of Daisy and got back to work. A few minutes later, Angela left Dr. B's office. As she walked out the door, I heard her say, "Sweetie, don't worry about it. It's just some silly pictures. No one who deals with you professionally will think any less of you." She shot me a concerned look as she headed to her office.

We hadn't seen Booth since Dr. Brennan had left for California, but I was fully expecting him to show up now that she was back. He didn't come by, though.

At noon, I heard Angela ask Brennan if she'd heard from Booth. Brennan was intent on some remains, but she answered, "No, I left him a couple of messages, but he hasn't called me back."

By three o'clock, Dr. Brennan was obviously tense. She had taken to carrying her cell phone in the pocket of her lab coat, and was surreptitiously checking it every few minutes. Angela and Cam were exchanging concerned looks every time she did so.

At four o'clock, Cam headed off to her office to do paperwork. Well, that was her excuse, anyway. I suspect that she made a phone call while she was in there, because at five o'clock she dragged us all to the diner to celebrate the success of the movie. Dr. Brennan didn't want to go, but she was no match for the combined efforts of Cam and Angela.

When we got to the diner, Booth was already there. He looked surprised to see all of us, and I suspect he would have left if Cam hadn't immediately sat down beside him, boxing him in. Somehow, Dr. Brennan ended up directly opposite Booth with Angela beside her. Daisy and I grabbed the end seats.

Booth looked out the window, obviously hoping to be somewhere else. Dr. B is usually oblivious to social cues, but she is acutely aware of Booth's moods, and she immediately sensed that something was wrong. Naturally, she asked, "Is everything OK, Booth? You didn't return my calls."

He looked at her and forced a smile. "Sorry, Bones, I was busy. How was your trip?"

She was obviously confused by the difference between his words and his demeanor. "The premiere went well – they did a good job with the movie, although there were some inaccuracies. Our flight home was delayed by an hour, but other than that it was fine. It's good to be back. How was your weekend? Did you have a good time with Parker?"

Booth wasn't ready for social pleasantries, though, and he asked, "Anything interesting happen in California?"

Daisy picked that moment to pull the tabloid out of her purse. _Why_ would she carry it around with her? Hadn't she ever heard of people shooting the messenger? Based on the look on Booth's face, it was a real possibility. She shoved it down the table. "Agent Booth, did you see this? Aren't these the cutest pictures?"

Dr. Brennan grabbed it and handed it to a passing waitress for disposal. When Daisy started to protest, Brennan said, "Ms. Wick, I've asked you not to show that to people. It's unprofessional."

Daisy must have a death wish, because she didn't let it go. "But you two are _so cute_ together. Wouldn't it be _awesome_ if you got married? You'd have the cutest babies."

The look Dr. B was giving her is the look you normally see when someone steps in something they consider really unpleasant – although if they understood how important evidence from soil or bugs could be, they probably would change their minds.

I'm sure Dr. Brennan was preparing a scathing retort, but Booth spoke up. "Is it true, Bones? Are you getting married?"

Thrown off course, Brennan said, "What? Why would you ask that?"

"Six different agents dropped by my office to show me that tabloid today. It says you're getting married, and they all wanted to know if I knew about it."

Dr. B likes nothing more than explaining things, and she shifted into her professor mode. "Actually, Booth, it just speculates that I _might_ get married. It doesn't say that I'm _going_ to get married."

Booth still had his temper in check, although just barely. "Answer. The. Question."

By now, Dr. Brennan had realized that something was going on, although I don't think she had figured out why her answer was so important to him. She knew it _was_ important, though, so she immediately answered. "No, Booth, you know I think that marriage is unnecessary. I don't plan to ever get married. If I changed my mind, though, I would _tell_ you. I wouldn't expect you to read about it in some trashy magazine."

I know Booth was relieved, but he probably should have thought a bit more before he spoke. "That's great, Bones!"

Dr. B looked a little hurt. "Oh. Yes, I guess I wouldn't be very good at marriage."

It was kind of funny to watch Booth attempt to backtrack so quickly. "No, Bones, you would be _great _at marriage. You're a wonderful person. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

"But … you just said it was great that I'm not getting married."

By now, Angela and Cam were both grinning. Daisy, on the other hand, looked confused. Booth ignored all of us, and reached out, grabbing Dr. Brennan's hands. "Bones, I want you to be happy. You _know_ that. And if being happy means getting married, then I'm all for it. It's just … you haven't known Christopher very long, and I think it's too early for you to know if he'll make you happy. So yes, I'm glad you're not getting married right now. And if things work out with Christopher and you decide you _want _to get married in the future, I'll be happy for you, OK?"

It took a minute for Dr. B to process this. Finally, she nodded. "OK. Thanks, Booth."

Now that Booth knew Dr. Brennan wasn't engaged, he became much more involved in the party. We put in our order (with Booth ordering extra fries, because "Bones always steals half my fries"). As we waited for our food, conversation flowed freely.

Everyone enjoyed the food. As we were finishing our meals, Dr. B's cell phone rang. Angela and Daisy hurried to move so that she could get out of the booth to take her call in private. Angela, Cam, Daisy, and I discussed going to catch an early showing of the movie while she talked. Booth just sat there, his face tense. When she got back, Angela asked, "Was that Christopher, Bren? Do you have to go?"

As Booth listened intently, Dr. B answered, "Yes, it was Christopher, but I told him I was going to hang out with you guys tonight. I'll see him tomorrow."

Booth smiled at her. "Great, Bones! We're all going to see your movie so that we can see how well we show up on the big screen. Let's go!"

Booth put his arm around Dr. Brennan and started to lead her out of the diner. As they left, she said, "Booth, Andy Lister is _not_ based on you. How many times do I have to tell you?"

As the door closed, I heard him say, "Come on, Bones, how many hot FBI guys do you know?"

I glanced at Angela, and we both headed for the door. _No way _did we want to miss the answer to that question.

* * *

**Umbrella? Unique?**


	21. Uno

**Note:** Did you all have a good weekend? Apparently, I decided to spend the weekend making people hate me for no good reason. Oops.

I'm enjoying hearing what all of you think of these (even when I'm mean, like in this one). Thanks for reviewing!

As always, I love all of the suggestions. Here is the list of suggestions for U:

Ugly, umbrella, umber, unspecific, urban, uprooted, unanimous, underwear, unicycle, under, usual, urine, ulcer, undercover, uniform, unicorn, ugly, up, understanding, uvula, uncle, unique, ugly, ultimate, ultrasound, ultraviolet, unstoppable, utopia, underlying tension, uterus, Uranus, Uno, unit, unity, union, unicorns, unique, underneath, unusual, ulterior motive, unaware, unbuttoned, upstairs, urgent, unkempt, uneven, utensil, ukulele, ultimatum, underestimate, undercover, underground, uncertain

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Set in the future – probably about 20 years from now.

* * *

"Bones!" Booth rushed across the hall and enveloped his former partner in a giant hug. "I'm so glad you could come! How was Russia?"

Brennan returned the hug, obviously glad to be home. She had been on the dig for six months, and as much as she loved ancient remains, she had to admit that it was good to be back in D.C.

Booth finally released his grip and they pulled apart, grinning at each other.

"Of course I'm here, Booth. I may not believe that marriage is necessary, but I recognize that it is an important moment in Parker's life. Traditionally, marriage is one of the …"

Booth cut her off, slinging his arm around her shoulder. "No anthropology today, Bones. Come over and say hi to Amanda before the wedding starts."

After exchanging pleasantries with Booth's wife, Brennan slid into the pew beside Cam. She watched the ceremony, admitting to herself that there was beauty in the solemn ritual. Parker stood beside his new bride, bursting with pride.

While the bridal party was having pictures taken, Brennan had the chance to reconnect with her former colleagues. Angela had been the first to leave the Jeffersonian, moving to New Mexico with her boyfriend. A couple of years later, Brennan had quit to devote herself to an academic career. Once Booth had moved on to a new job, she had lost her love for field work. She liked interacting with students, and she loved being able to devote herself to authenticating remains and participating in digs.

While they waited for the reception to start, the old Jeffersonian team swapped stories of jobs, adventures, and their lives. Brennan met Cam's boyfriend and Hodgins's wife. They talked about the cases they had worked, Hodgins and Zach's experiments, and Angela's antics at the Jeffersonian's annual Christmas party. Cam filled Brennan in on Wendell's work as the senior forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian.

The reception started, and the group moved to a table. Once the formalities were over, Booth and Amanda came over to join them. Soon the table was crowded with the former Jeffersonian team and their dates as well as Booth, Amanda, Jared, his date, Rebecca and her husband. The conversation centered around their history as a crime-fighting team. Those who hadn't been there were anxious to hear the stories, although Rebecca was heard to say "I'm glad I didn't know how dangerous your job was at the time, Seeley."

At one point, talk turned to a trip Booth and Brennan had taken to talk to the family of one of their victims. It had only been a couple of hours away, but on the way back, it had started snowing. Road conditions had gotten worse and worse until they hit a patch of ice and ended up in a ditch. They had called for help, but due to the weather, no one was able to reach them until morning. Luckily, the vehicle had been properly stocked with sleeping bags, food, and candles, so they had spent the rest of the day huddled in their sleeping bags playing a game of Uno that Parker had left behind on his last visit.

Booth commented, "And that's the day I found out that Bones cheats at cards."

Brennan was indignant. "I do _not_ cheat, Booth. I won, fair and square."

Booth shook his head. "Now, now, Bones, the rules clearly state that when you have one card left, you have to yell 'uno'. You didn't do that."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Booth, the rules _also_ state that if another player – i.e. you – notices that someone put down their second last card without saying 'uno', the caught player has to pick up two more cards. I wasn't cheating, you were merely inattentive."

Booth grinned at her. "Bones, if you _had_ said 'uno', I would have _known_ that you were almost out of cards, and I would have changed the color so that you wouldn't have been able to win."

Brennan grinned back, enjoying their argument. "Booth, that's ridiculous. You didn't know what color the card I still had was, so there's no way you could have effectively changed to a color I didn't have. The facts show that I won – and you lost."

Cam, feeling like she had traveled back in time twenty years, broke into the conversation. "OK you two, that's enough. We all heard plenty about that card game when you got back from that trip."

Booth smiled at her. "Sorry, Cam, we got carried away."

With that, he turned to his wife and pulled her off onto the dance floor.

Jared looked at Brennan, who was watching Booth dance with his wife. "You know, Tempe, I always thought you and Seeley would get together."

She turned her attention back to him, smiling as she said, "You know, Jared, we considered it, but we decided the chances of such different people making it work were too low, and we didn't want to lose what we had."

Angela leaned across the table. "You considered it? I didn't know that."

Brennan nodded. "Yes. It was a long time ago, Ange. We talked about whether we wanted to give a romantic relationship a try. I'm glad we didn't. Booth and I are so different – he's religious, I'm not, he wanted more kids, I didn't, we disagree on _everything_. We wouldn't have made it as a couple, and I would have lost my best friend – other than you, of course."

Angela commented, "But he didn't _have _more kids."

Brennan shook her head. "No, he didn't – but it wasn't because I was holding him back." She glanced over at the dancing couple. "He's happier with Amanda than he would have been with a wife who kept running off to go dig up bones – and I'm happier running off to dig up bones than I would have been trying to fit into the mold of a perfect wife."

Cam looked over at her. "It's not really the happy ending we wanted, way back when."

Brennan picked up her glass of wine, taking a sip as she said, "No, but it's _our_ happy ending."

* * *

**Viola? Version?**


	22. Valentine

**Note:** Remember when these used to be happy? No? Me either.

Thanks to all who reviewed – I enjoy hearing your comments, good and bad.

Here are all of your suggestions for V:

veil, violin, vaccine, vacuum, ventilation, vagabond, veal, vale, value, vamoose, vanilla, vanity, vapor, vault, venerable, Venice, Venus, vibrate, village, vitamins, virtue, vultures, vivacious, viscosity, violence, vicariously, venting, vending, vicious, volume, violin, violets, Verizon, Vicodin, violent, Victoria, volatile, volume, veto, vineyard, vest, vegetable, vegetative, very, vouch, van, vein, vaccination, Valentine, vicar, voluptuous, vampire, victory, void, vision, vehicle, valet, vibes, virtuous

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Less than 2 years in the future.

* * *

Angela walked by Brennan's office. She had walked past it twice in the last hour, and both times Brennan was sitting at her desk, staring blankly at her computer.

She knocked on the door. "Good morning, Bren. How was your weekend? What did you and that hot boyfriend of yours do?"

Brennan looked up as Angela pulled a chair over and sat down. "Hi, Ange. Um, the weekend … you know, the usual. I had karate on Saturday. Booth took Parker to church on Sunday, then we went out for pancakes. How was your weekend?"

Angela grinned. "Oh, I'll tell you about _my _weekend when we are somewhere far away from skeletons so that you can properly appreciate it. But seriously, Sweetie, something is bothering you. What's going on?"

Brennan swiveled her chair to face Angela.

"OK, here's the thing. Booth and I were lying in bed on Saturday night."

Angela raised her eyebrows. "Oh, Bren, what happened? Couldn't he …"

Brennan rolled her eyes. "He asked me to go out for dinner with him."

Angela's brow furrowed. "Sweetie, usually people go out for dinner _before _they end up in bed together. You guys are practically living together, why is going for dinner a problem?"

Brennan leaned back, resting her head on the top of her chair. "I don't know, Ange, it's just … he wants to do this big, romantic Valentine's dinner, and I don't really _do_ that, you know?"

"You eat dinner, right? I would imagine you still could eat dinner if you were at a romantic restaurant."

Brennan stood, walking over to look out of her office onto the lab platform. "It's just … _this_ is my life. Booth is used to dating _normal_ women – you know, women who expect flowers on Valentine's Day, who are excited about going out for a romantic dinner. I don't see the point – it's not like Booth needs to take me out for dinner to get me into bed."

Angela stood up and walked over to her. "Booth loves _you_ – not some fictional woman. Can't you just get dressed up and let him ogle you over dinner? I love you, Sweetie, but you're over-thinking this." With that, she quickly hugged Brennan, then turned and headed for the door.

If the lab had been any noisier, Angela would have missed Brennan's next words. "What if I'm not enough for him?"

She paused, turning to face Brennan. "Bren, Booth _loves_ you. I'm pretty sure he wants to make this relationship work even more than you do. _Talk to him, _OK?"

When Brennan nodded, she turned and headed back to her office.

The clock on the wall read 4:30 as Brennan took off her lab coat and hung it up. She had some errands to run, and she was mentally debating whether to go to the bookstore or the dry cleaner's first when her partner walked in.

"Oh! Hi, Booth."

He walked over and put his arms around her. "I missed you."

She hugged him back desperately, wondering what she'd do if she had to let him go. His hand on her chin he tilted her head up so that he could look into her eyes. "Is everything OK, Bones?"

She stepped back, then walked over to sit on her couch, gesturing for him to join him. "We need to talk."

At her words, his face lost all expression. "OK."

Brennan huddled in the corner of the couch. "Booth, I'm not like the women you've dated before."

His eyes flew open. "What? I know who you are, Bones."

Brennan continued, "I mean … look, Booth, I'm not the type of woman who daydreams about her wedding, or longs to have children. That's just not me. I spend my days examining human remains. I know you want the fairytale – the romantic dinners, marriage, kids – but I can't give that to you."

Booth reached out, covering her hand with his. "Bones, I know you don't want to get married, and that you're not sure about whether you want kids or not. Why are you telling me this?"

Brennan stared at their joined hands as she answered. "You want to go out for dinner on Valentine's Day."

Wondering if this would be the last time he would touch her, Booth asked, "You're breaking up with me because I want to go out for _dinner?_"

Brennan's eyes flew to meet his. "I'm not breaking up with you – unless – do you _want_ to break up?"

Sliding closer, Booth put his arm around her. "Bones, I don't want to break up. I want _you_. And yes, I want us to dress up and go out for dinner. I want everyone who sees us to know how lucky I am that you're with me. I want to look into your eyes and wonder what you're wearing under your dress – and I want to take you home and find out_. _I thought it might be fun for us to go out on Valentine's Day – and I don't want _you or anyone else_ to doubt how much I love you. If you don't want to do that, though, it's OK. We can stay home and I'll make you one of my world-famous grilled cheese sandwiches."

Brennan laughed. "I don't think they're _actually_ world-famous, Booth. I've been to a lot of countries, and I've never heard of them."

Booth looked affronted. "Maybe you just haven't been talking with the right people. I hear my grilled cheese sandwiches are legendary in Malaysia."

Brennan moved closer so that their sides were pressed together and her head was on his shoulder. "It's really OK if we don't go out on Valentine's Day?"

She felt a light kiss on the top of her head, then Booth said, "It's OK, Bones. But maybe someday you'll let me take you for dinner?"

She snuggled closer. "I'd like that."

* * *

**Watermelon? Wave?**


	23. Whipped

**Note:** Only three left! Any suggestions for what you'd like to see once this is done? (Keep in mind that my strength does not lie in long, case-driven stories – I like short, character-based stuff.)

Thanks to all who reviewed. Somehow I get the impression that you guys like stories where Booth & Brennan are together more than ones where they're with other people.

Here are all of your suggestions for W:

Wings, wallet, walrus, wifi, wikipedia, Williamsburg, white horse, wind, witches, whistle, wedding, whale, watch, welcome, water, wavering, welcome, wag, whump, whooping, whip, watching, Waterloo, wacko, walk, waffles, wager, warm, wonder, words, window, wimp, wipe, wish, whoa, whodunit, whole, waxing, work, weekend, weather, Wendell, waking, writing, wikispace, waterfall, wisdom, workaholic, watercress, water polo, walrus, whales, wine, whining

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Friends/partners.

* * *

I love my kids. I mean, most fathers love their kids, right? I'm no exception.

I'm not a typical father, though. My daughter keeps telling me that most fathers don't kill people who threaten their kids. In my defense, the people who threaten my kids aren't just trying to deny them a parking spot or the right to smoke outside a restaurant or a job. No, the people who threaten my kids are actually trying to kill them.

I can't deny that Tempe is an adult, but in my mind she's still the little girl who came running to greet me at the door when I came home from work. Sure, she's got a pile of degrees and hangs out with a sniper-trained FBI agent, but I still protect her – I just try to avoid _telling_ her that when I can. She wouldn't approve – and she's got this thing about taking care of herself.

I know I've made mistakes. I missed a lot of years with my kids, and I know that's why Tempe doesn't let me in. The only people she lets in these days are those squints she works with – and her partner. I like Booth. He's an honest cop. I respect him, and I know he'd give his life to protect my little girl. If I had any doubt about that, he proved himself when he took that bullet for her.

I think he likes me too. I'm pretty sure that the only reason Tempe has anything to do with me is because Booth asked her to. I _know_ he's the reason she changed her mind about firing me from the Jeffersonian.

You know, getting a job at the Jeffersonian seemed like a good idea at the time. I wanted to get closer to Tempe – to be part of her life and show her that I wasn't going to leave her again. Tempe didn't approve, though. She claimed that it was because of my past as a criminal, but I'm pretty sure she just didn't want to have to deal with her no-good father in her place of work.

I've definitely learned more about Tempe since I started working here. I've had a chance to see first-hand how dedicated she is to her job. One time, I heard from Stevenson that Tempe had been injured when she was out in the field with Booth. (Booth and I had a little chat after that. These days, he calls me from the hospital. It happens more often than I'd like, but Tempe has never been one to sit on the sidelines.)

Wednesday was Booth's birthday. There was a big party planned for Friday, but Tempe didn't want his actual birthday to go unnoticed. I suspect that friend of hers, Angela, had something to do with that. Anyway, Angela picked up some pies on her lunch break and the bug guy, Dr. Saroyan, that psychologist who told the jury I'm a sociopath, a couple of those kids that follow Tempe around, and I met Tempe and Booth up in the lounge. As we waited for Angela to get back, the conversation turned to an upcoming Jeffersonian party. The bug guy claimed he wasn't planning to go, but Dr. Saroyan made it clear that everyone was expected to attend.

Booth was happy. Of course, he's happy anytime there's pie. It was a pretty festive atmosphere for a place filled with human remains and scientists. Tempe doesn't really like pie – even as a kid she didn't like her fruit cooked – but Angela had picked up a chocolate pie as well, and Booth had convinced her to have some.

I didn't think she would, but I've come to believe that Booth can talk her into anything – even eating pie. She accepted a piece of pie and picked up a fork. She was about to take a bite when Booth stopped her.

"No! Bones, you can't eat that."

Of course, Tempe was confused. "But you just spent five minutes convincing me to try some. Why can't I eat it?"

Booth gestured at the can of whipped topping sitting on the table. "You can't eat chocolate pie without whipped cream."

Tempe looked at the topping like it was made of beetles. "That's not cream, Booth. It's a combination of water, corn syrup, oil, and …"

"And it's delicious, Bones. Here."

Tempe looked at the can Booth was holding out. "No thanks, Booth."

Booth persevered. "Come on, Bones. It's my _birthday_. The least you could do is put whipped cream on your pie. You know you want some."

Tempe shook her head. "I really don't, Booth. Besides, I thought the least I could do was have the pie – now you want me to put that topping on it. What's next?"

Angela laughed, obviously supplying her own answer to that question. I _really_ did not want to now what she was thinking.

Booth obviously did know what Angela was thinking, and he looked extremely uncomfortable. I decided to rescue him – it certainly couldn't hurt to have an FBI agent owe me one.

"Hey Booth, how's your pie?"

He grinned at me, grateful for the interruption. "It's great, Max. Cherry is my favorite. How's the apple?"

I smiled back. "Good. I always enjoy apple pie. So tell me more about this party you're taking my daughter to."

His eyes automatically flew to Tempe. She just rolled her eyes. "It's a work function, Dad, and I'm a grown woman. Stop trying to intimidate Booth."

Like I said, she's got this thing about taking care of herself. I let the subject drop and turned back to my pie. I'd make a point of talking with Booth tomorrow.

* * *

**Let me be the first to suggest xylophone.**


	24. Xrated

**Note:** The first part of this one was originally written for another letter. I can't remember which letter – even though the fight is intact. I suspect that's why I abandoned it earlier.

Thanks to all who reviewed. I always love hearing what you thought.

Here are all of your suggestions for X:

Xenophobia, x-rated, x-ray, xylophone, x-men, x-files, xmas

(X is a difficult letter, I'm amazed you guys came up with that many.)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Friends/partners

* * *

I went to school for years. I got my bachelor's degree and my masters. I started working on my doctorate. I applied for internships at a variety of labs around the country.

When I was offered an internship at the Jeffersonian, I was elated. I would be able to get the practical experience at one of the best labs in the country, working with one of the best forensic anthropologists in the world.

I showed up on my first day, prepared to learn. I was a little insecure when Dr. Brennan was abrupt and distant. I wanted to impress her, so I worked harder and vowed to act professionally.

Then Dr. Addy returned from Iraq. I finally understood why Dr. Brennan was so distant with me. He took his place as her assistant, and I worked less closely with her.

When Dr. Addy was placed in the mental hospital, Dr. Brennan started a rotation of interns. Every week, one of us would assist her with her work.

When it was my turn, I learned a lot about forensic anthropology. However, I learned _too much_ about my colleagues. No one in that lab has _any _sense of discretion. There was tension between Dr. Saroyan and Angela because Dr. Saroyan slept with Angela's ex-husband. That caused tension between Dr. Hodgins and Angela, so they broke up. Angela insisted on speculating on what was going on between Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan while they were in England – or whether Dr. Brennan had slept with the anthropologist there. When they got back from England, Dr. Brennan started dating two men, and naturally that was the talk of the lab.

I couldn't _believe_ it. This was supposed to be a place of work, a place of reason and science. Instead, it was a soap opera.

I considered quitting, but I had dreamed of this opportunity for years. I didn't want to give it up because of my coworkers' inability to focus on the job. Instead, I decided to make it clear that I wanted no part of the drama going on in my colleagues' personal lives. I would be strictly professional and focus on the job.

My endeavor to stay professional had limited success. I had to keep reminding people that I did not want to hear about their personal lives.

It was hard to avoid, though. Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan bickered constantly.

"_Bones, how many have I told you to park under one of the lights in the parking structure? And yet today, what do I see? Your car, way back in a dark corner!"_

"_Booth, I had an appointment this morning, so I got in late today. All of the closer spots were taken. Besides, Dr. Johansson from Paleontology parked beside me. We walked in together."_

"_And will Dr. Johansson be leaving at the same time as you, or were you planning to walk to the most deserted corner of the parking structure alone when you leave after dark?"_

"_Booth, you're being ridiculous. I can take care of myself."_

"_Like you took care of yourself when the gravedigger kidnapped you from that same parking structure?"_

"_That was the middle of the day, Booth."_

"_So … your argument is that you'll be safer after dark than you were in the middle of the day?"_

"_I will be careful, Booth."_

"_Bones, I don't believe you! Do you want to get kidnapped again?"_

"_Of course not, Booth. I've said I'll be careful"_

"_Promise me you'll have a security guard walk you to your car tonight."_

"_Really, Booth, I will be fine on my own."  
_

"_Promise me, Bones."_

"_Why is this so important to you, Booth?"_

"_It is important, Bones, because I need to know you're safe! You're my partner! Do you know what it was like for me to get that call from the gravedigger?"_

"_But Booth, that wasn't your fault!"_

"_Of course it was my fault, Bones. It's my job to keep you safe."_

"_Your job is to catch criminals, Booth. You're not responsible for me."_

"Of course I am, Bones. We're partners. I know you can take care of yourself, but we both know that no one is alert and careful all the time. I don't want you to get hurt because you let your guard down for a second."

"_OK. I promise."  
_

"_What?"_

"_I promise I will get a security guard to walk me to my car tonight."_

"_Thank you."_

Hodgins was always trying to get me to help him with crazy, clandestine experiments. I know he convinced some of the other interns to help him, but I tried to resist.

"_Clark, I need your help."_

"_I'm busy completing this examination for Dr. Brennan. What do you need my help with?"_

"_Look man, it's not a big deal. I'm doing an experiment. I just need you to keep a look out for Cam and press this button when I tell you to."_

Was he crazy? Cam was my boss! Helping him could get me fired.

Angela had her own idiosyncrasies. I learned about her relationship with Roxie, their breakup, the guys she dated, her eating habits, and her quest to find a new apartment. I heard her talk about shopping trips she dragged Dr. Brennan on. I even heard about her trip to Vegas with some friends – and believe me, that involved stuff a co-worker should not hear about.

The worst, though, was being trapped in a Booth's vehicle on the way to a crime scene while he and Dr. Brennan discussed an incident from the weekend.

When Agent Booth picked us up, things seemed a little more strained than usual. I didn't know why. Of course, I didn't _want_ to know why.

We sat in silence, Dr. Brennan looking anxiously at Agent Booth every couple of minutes while he stared doggedly ahead.

Finally, she spoke. "Are you still upset about the movie?"

He didn't reply.

"Look, Booth, I know you were uncomfortable, but there really is no reason to be."

He glanced over at her. "Just drop it, Bones."

I was hoping she would, but of course she couldn't let it go. "Booth, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. We're both adults. This really shouldn't be a problem."

I _really _didn't want to be part of this conversation. "Dr. Brennan? Agent Booth? Would it be possible for you to have this conversation later?"

Dr. Brennan replied absently, "No, Clark, I think it's important that we talk about this now."

Booth glanced at her again. "Bones, give the kid a break. We can talk about this later … or never. There's really nothing to talk about."

Dr. Brennan reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Booth, I didn't know that the movie I picked was x-rated. I'm sorry you were embarrassed, but I don't think there was anything to be embarrassed about. I thought the movie was very well done."

I could see a muscle in Booth's jaw twitching. Finally, he replied, "Bones, that wasn't really an appropriate movie for colleagues to watch together, that's all."

"But … we're friends too, right?" I could hear the insecurity in her voice.

Obviously, Booth could too, because he answered right away. "Of course, Bones. I just don't think that was an appropriate movie for _us_."

"Well, Angela and I are friends and I don't think she'd have a problem watching a movie like that. This is because you're uncomfortable talking about sex, right?'

I sat in the back seat, wishing she'd change the subject. _I'm_ uncomfortable talking about sex with them. Does that count?

Apparently not. Booth answered, "I'm not _uncomfortable _talking about sex – I just don't think it's appropriate for _us_ to talk about sex."

Sometimes I don't understand how someone so smart can be so clueless. "Why is it inappropriate for _us_ to talk about sex? Angela and I talk about sex all of the time."

"That's fine, Bones, I just don't think it's a good idea for us."

"Oh. You mean because you're a man and I'm a woman and we could actually _have _sex?"

I wished I were anywhere else – but I have to admit, I'd never seen an FBI agent blush before.

"I made you uncomfortable, didn't I? I didn't mean to. I know we're not _going _to have sex."

That got her another sideways glance from Agent Booth. Finally he spoke up. "It's OK, Bones. Can we just drop it?"

She pushed her hair back behind her ear, her eyes still focused on him. "OK, Booth. I'm sorry. Next time you can pick the movie. Maybe we can go to one of your cartoons."

Booth obviously thought the conversation was over, and he visibly relaxed as Dr. Brennan turned to look out of her side window.

I was relieved that they were finally done, and I went back to enjoying the quiet in the vehicle.

I rejoiced too early, because Dr. Brennan broke the silence with one last statement. "Unless we _start_ having sex before the next time we go to a movie. Then that kind of movie would be fine."

I think I'll volunteer to ride back to D.C. with the remains.

* * *

**Yesterday, yen, young?**


	25. Yearbook

**Note:** Why does everyone on this show call everyone else by different names? It is so confusing for me to be writing 'Tempe' and 'Seeley' all of the time. Booth and Brennan are so much easier.

This one is less fight-y than some of them – it is at most a minor disagreement.

Thanks to all who reviewed. I always love hearing what you thought.

Here are all of your suggestions for Y:

Yoda, yak, yoga, youth, y-chromosome, yearbook, yearly, yell, yellow, yellow pages, yelp, yes, yet, yield, yogurt, yonder, you, yours, Yukon, YMCA, yo-yo, yuk, yippee, yurt, yacht, yack, yahoo, Yale, yearn, year, Yosemite, yacht club, yeti, yesterday, yard, Yop, y-axis, Y2K, Yahtzee, Yankees, yawn, Yellowstone, Yellowknife

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Partners/friends

* * *

When I was a kid, I idolized my older brother. He could do _anything_. He could ride a two-wheeler. He could cross the street by himself. He played sports. He had tons of friends.

I followed him _everywhere_. I'm sure I was a real nuisance. I remember one time when he was hanging out with his friends. They were going on some big bike ride. I caught up with them about 6 blocks from our house. I was pretty tired already, and Seeley had to turn around and take me home. He missed the bike ride.

Later that afternoon, I heard him ranting to Mom about how I _always_ got in the way. She just smiled that smile of hers and said, "Seeley, Jared wants to be just like you. I know he gets in the way sometimes, but go easy on him, OK?"

I was upset that my brother didn't want me around, and I went and hid in my room. It wasn't long before he was there, offering to play with me. He even let me ride his skateboard.

I remember my early childhood as being a happy time – and I think it was. Things changed when I was 6. That's when my dad lost his job. It took him a year to find another one, and his new job didn't pay nearly as much as the old one. He and Mom started fighting and he started drinking.

Soon I learned to be quiet and stay out of the way when Dad was drinking. Seeley never really mastered that skill. I remember seeing him yell at Dad, telling him to stop drinking and to be nicer to Mom. He was just a kid himself, but he elected himself Mom's protector – and mine. Of course, that just meant that Dad took his frustrations out on Seeley.

I don't know how he survived. At school, he was popular and well-liked. At home, he was a punching bag.

When he was 18, he joined the army and left. I'm not proud of it, but I resented him for it. He went off to war, and I bounced between worrying about him and hating him for leaving.

When he came back, it was like he had never left. He started college and slipped back into his role as my older brother. He rescued me when I ran into trouble. He meant well, but it made me feel like a screw-up. He was the good son, I was the mess.

After I graduated, I joined the navy. Military service is a tradition in our family, but I didn't want to live in Seeley's shadow anymore.

To everyone's surprise, I thrived. I loved the structure, and I was able to feel like I was making a difference in the world.

Seeley and I drifted apart. He met Rebecca and had Parker. I was 'Uncle Jared'. I had never had much experience with babies and I didn't really know how to relate, but I made an effort.

We still got together once every year or so. Not for long – I always felt like a screw-up when I saw him, and I could only take that for so long.

A few years ago, I noticed that he rarely went more than a couple of minutes without mentioning his partner. It was clear that she was a big part of his life.

I got a promotion and a transfer to D.C. I finally met his 'Bones'. In fact, I got her to join me at a party. I expected Seeley to object, but he didn't. I figured that she was someone else he had decided to protect and that he wasn't interested in anything more. We had a good time, and I considered asking her out again. Before I could, I got arrested for drunk driving. Well, not arrested, really – Seeley rode to the rescue, saving his screw-up of a brother again. Tempe found out about it and she wanted nothing more to do with me.

Somehow, we made our peace. She still didn't like me – she is intensely loyal to my brother – but she tolerated me. When Seeley was kidnapped, she even asked me to help. I did, of course. He _is_ my brother. I have to admit, it was nice being the one doing the rescuing.

I lost my job because I helped her. In a way, it was a relief. I would _finally_ be able to figure out who I am on my own. Seeley didn't approve – he's all about stability – but I needed to take some time. I headed off to India.

While I was there, I got an e-mail from Seeley. Well, not really – it was Tempe, using Seeley's e-mail account. He had been rushed into surgery for a brain tumor. I wanted to be there but, of course, I was half way around the world. Before I could make arrangements to get home, she e-mailed again. He was out of surgery and awake, but a bit confused. She convinced me that I didn't need to cut my trip short.

When I finally got home, Seeley was _different_. I couldn't really put my finger on what had changed. He was serious – but he has always been serious. He was quieter, I guess. I met him and Tempe for drinks, and from the way she glanced at him, I could tell that she had noticed the changes too.

Since I'm still unemployed, I spent the last month helping Grandpa clean out the old house. Neither Seeley nor I are ever going to live there again, so it seemed like a good idea to sell it before it starts to deteriorate. I boxed up some of my stuff and some of Seeley's stuff from when we were kids. Since I was meeting Seeley at the diner, I decided to bring Seeley's yearbook from the ninth grade.

I was waiting at the table when he walked in accompanied by Tempe. He sat down saying "I hope you don't mind, Jare, but Bones and I have some reports to finish later so I dragged her along." I had expected as much, and I certainly didn't object.

We ordered and while we were waiting, I grabbed the yearbook. "Guess what I found when I was cleaning up?"

Seeley looked worried but didn't answer. I pulled the yearbook out, hold it up so that they could both see what it was. Tempe looked interested and turned to Seeley. "Booth? Is that your yearbook? Can I see?" She held her hand out and I handed it over.

Seeley wasn't happy with that. "Bones, you don't need to see that."

She was already turning the pages. "Come on, Booth, I want to see what you looked like when you were a kid."

While she looked at the yearbook, I brought Seeley up to date on my trip and the box of his stuff that I had brought back for him.

Our conversation was interrupted when Angela, Hodgins, and Cam arrived. They hadn't been expecting to see us and offered to get another table, but we invited them to join us. Tempe closed the yearbook and set it in front of her as we moved down to make room.

Angela noticed immediately. "Bren? Is that your yearbook?"

Tempe answered, "No, it's Booth's yearbook. You should see this picture of Booth in a dress. Let me find it for you."

Hodgins laughed.

Seeley reached out and put his hand on the yearbook. "Come on, Bones, Angela doesn't need to see that."

She looked over at him. "It's a cute picture, Booth. I'm sure Angela would enjoy seeing it."

Angela joined in, laughter in her voice. "Yes, Booth, I'm sure I _would_ enjoy seeing it. I'd _also_ like to hear the story of _why_ you were wearing a dress."

My brother – the tough one, the one I've always looked up to – blushed. "I was in grade nine, Angela. I was a freshman and as part of frosh week, my senior made me dress up like that. I didn't _want_ to."

Tempe leaned back in her seat. "I think it was very evolved of you to agree, Booth. Many men would take it as a threat to their masculinity."

"I'm glad you think so, Bones, but that doesn't mean that the squints need to see the picture. It's kind of embarrassing."

"But … you were OK with _me_ seeing the picture. Why is it OK for me to see it but not for Angela, Hodgins, and Cam to see it?"

Cam grinned at Seeley, obviously waiting for his answer.

"We're _partners_, Bones. That's what makes it OK."

As he spoke, Angela and Cam exchanged a look, both of them rolling their eyes. Tempe didn't notice as all of her attention was focused on Seeley. "So this is one of those things that is just between us?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Bones. One of those things."

Angela latched on to that like a person drowning latches on to a life preserver. "_One_ of those things? How many others are there?"

Tempe turned to face Angela. "Booth and I are partners, Ange. On occasion, one of us has said or done something that only the other person knows about. It's a partner thing. You and I have secrets that only _we_ know. Same thing."

Angela leaned forward and whispered, "Are you two sleeping together? Because that's the kind of thing you _really _should tell your best friend, Brennan."

Cam agreed. "You really should, Dr. Brennan. Just think how much Angela could accomplish if she wasn't spending half her time trying to get you and Booth together."

Tempe looked puzzled. "Of course not, Ange. Booth and I are _partners_. It would be inappropriate for us to be involved sexually. Why would you even ask that?"

Angela sat back. "Just checking, Sweetie. If that changes, you'll let me know, right?"

Tempe's brow furrowed. "I don't expect us to stop being partners, Angela." She turned and looked at Seeley. Sounding hurt, she said, "Are you planning to stop being my partner?"

Seeley reached out, covering her hand with his, "No, Bones, we're partners. I have _no _plans to end that. I promise."

They gazed at each other, seeming unaware that they were at a table full of people, some of whom were exchanging glances and gestures that were obviously a commentary on how clueless they were.

They were brought back to their surroundings when the waitress arrived to take our orders.

As the group ordered their meals and discussed the merits of appetizers, Booth grabbed the yearbook and set it beside him.

The food arrived and we started to eat, still chatting about weekend plans and some ill-advised experiment that Cam was holding over Hodgins's head. As the conversation continued, I noticed that Tempe reaching over and grabbing one of Seeley's fries every couple of minutes. I glanced at Cam, who nodded. "They're always like that."

Seeley looked at us. "Like what?"

Cam smiled. "Like partners, Booth."

* * *

**Zebra?**


	26. Zach

**Note: **Yikes! It's the last one. This one has a very minor fight. Very, very minor. I hope you enjoy anyway.

Is it Zack or Zach? You'd think I would walk across the room to see how it is spelled on the DVDs. You would be wrong.

For those who were wondering, here's who suggested the winning word for each letter:

Airport – me

Book signing – me (I think)

Cohabitation – me

Drawing – angrockman13

Eavesdropping – 7

Fears – Quirky-Misty

Gravy – Incendiary Device

Honeymoon – ImLovely

Intuition – ImLovely

Jealous – , sleeplessinatlanta, Viktorija, Poetgirl925

Key – Viktorija, Mythbusturr

Locksmith – Cricketmadalice

Magic – bobbins34, queen-of-the-lab123, felixlee14, Miss Klutz

Nose – sleeplessinatlanta, queen-of-the-lab123, Kevin The Burrito

Over – sleeplessinatlanta, queen-of-the-lab123,

Pumpkin – I thought someone suggested this one, but I can't find the e-mail.

Quit – pandarabbit

Relationship – Viktorija

Saint – Real Anime Lover 300, Viktorija, Cat1030

Tabloid – stormbinder22

Uno – Trinitystargazer3

Valentine – tvnut014

Whipped – tvnut014

X-rated – NatesMama

Yearbook – DakotaaB, Poetgirl925, tvnut014

Zack – 7, ariacle, tvnut014, Occasionly4eyes

Thanks to all who reviewed – especially those who came back after the site started working again to review.

Here are your suggestions for Z:

Zipper, zest, zero, zebra, zillion, Zack, Zeus, zealot, Zen, zoo, zoology, Zorro, Zap Brannigan, zygote, zinc, Z's, Zionism, zephyr, zeppelin, zipline, zabernism, zoolite, zigurat, zales, zucchini, zoologist, zilch, zealous, Zackaroni

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them.

**Relationship status:** Set in the future

* * *

Brennan sat on the back porch of the old house admiring the way the setting sun glanced off the brilliant red leaves of the old maple tree in the backyard. The air was crisp and there was a hint of frost in the air.

The house was full of laughing, happy people. As much as she loved them, the chaos was overwhelming. Here on the back porch, she was able to clear her head and _think_.

Forty years ago, she had left university, ready to take on the world. She had dedicated her life to forensic anthropology, hoping to be able to help others get answers she hadn't been able to get for herself.

She was good at what she did. She traveled the world, studying ancient remains and identifying victims of genocide. She got a job at the prestigious Jeffersonian Institution.

She met Angela and they became good friends. They were – well, are – very different people, but somehow that strengthened their friendship.

She started to write novels. It was hard at times – she has never been a people person – but it was a way for her to get under the skin of normal people. It helped her understand and sympathize with others a little more.

She met Booth. At the time, she had no idea that that was a moment that would change her life. It did. _He_ did. He dragged her out of the lab and into the real world.

They faced danger together. They faced death together. Somehow they survived.

They were partners. They became friends. The transition into lovers was so natural she's not entirely sure how it happened.

They dated. They moved in together. She had lived alone for a long time, and she was worried that she would resent having someone underfoot all of the time. To her surprise, she liked it. She liked having someone care when she got home late. She liked having someone to share her burdens with. She liked having someone to worry about.

One day, she found out she was pregnant. She was happy. Before she met him, she hadn't wanted children, but now she was ready. Before their little girl was born, they got married. (She didn't think marriage was necessary to prove their commitment to each other, but she agreed that the legal protections were important.)

Life wasn't always easy. They were both opinionated people with important, high-stress jobs. They argued about trivial things and about important things. Though they disagreed, they always respected each other.

There were happy times – weddings, births, graduations, commendations, book releases. There were sad times – the death of her father, the miscarriage of their second child, the car accident Parker was in right after he got his license. There were nights when she stayed at the lab, too angry to come home. There were nights when he slept on the couch, too hurt to join her in their bed. Somehow, they made it through.

The wind picked up and she was considering going back inside when she heard the door open and her husband walk out.

"I thought I'd find you here."

She turned her head to greet him, a smile on her face. "I just needed some space."

Noticing the small shiver she tried to hide, he sat down behind her, putting his arms around her. "I can understand that. Our family can be a little overwhelming."

She snuggled in against him. "They are our family, aren't they? Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Sweets, Jared, Russ, Amy, all of the kids, they're all our family."

"Yeah, Bones, they are."

"And Zack."

"Zack too."

"Is he here yet?"

Booth's arm tightened around her. "Not yet, Bones. He called. He's running late."

"I told you that you should pick him up, Booth."

"I know, Bones. I offered. He wanted to get here on his own. He says something about it being part of adjusting to life outside of the loony bin."

"If you had picked him up, he'd be here by now."

"I'm sure he'll be here soon."

"I don't want him to miss the party."

"He'll be here, Bones."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Brennan asked, "Do you still feel responsible for what happened to him?"

His jaw clenched. "Yes. Do _you_ think I'm responsible for what happened to him?"

"I think _I'm _responsible for what happened. He was my assistant. I should have known something was going on."

"We all should have, Bones. Maybe we could have stopped it. But you know what? _Zack_ could have stopped it. I wish he had."

"Me too, Booth."

They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the party going on without them.

Finally, Brennan stood up. "I'm getting cold. Let's go in."

Booth stood and took her hand as they walked into the house.

The party was in full swing inside. The dining room table was full of a variety of finger foods, the trays now half empty. Throughout the main floor, small groups were standing around chatting. Parker's daughter and Michelle's two sons ran from room to room chasing each other until Angela tired of it and banished them to the basement. From the den came the sounds of the older kids playing video games.

The doorbell rang and Brennan went to answer it. "Zack!" She wrapped her arms around him, happy that he had arrived at last.

Zack returned the hug. "It's good to see you, Dr. Brennan."

Booth held out his hand. "Zack. Glad you could make it. Bones was worried you'd miss the party."

Zack grabbed Booth's hand and shook it. "Agent Booth. I'm glad I could join you. I'm sorry I'm late."

"It's just Booth now, Zack. I'm retired. Come on, let's get you something to drink."

The day was filled with laughter, good food, and the company of friends. Angela seemed to have been keeping a list of women she wanted to introduce to Zack and every couple of minutes she would extol the virtues of another one. Sweets's son had just started university and was sharing what he'd learned so far with anyone who would listen.. Parker hovered attentively around his pregnant wife. Booth kept a close eye on Hodgins and Zack, concerned that they would blow up the house in an ill-advised experiment. As it got later, those with young children left to put the kids to bed. Soon the others headed home as well and Booth and Brennan were left alone.

They sat on the couch, Booth's arm around her.

Finally, Brennan spoke. "Zach looks happy."

"Of course he looks happy, Bones. He was in a mental hospital for thirty years. He must be thrilled to be out."

"Do you think he'll be OK? Zack was never good at understanding the real world."

Booth reached out, his fingers idly playing with her hair. "He's smart. He'll figure it out."

"And we'll help him."

"Yeah, Bones. That's what family does."

"Most people don't have families like ours."

"No, they don't. We've never been like most people."

She laughed. "That's true."

They sat in silence, enjoying each other's company. Finally Booth stood, pulling Brennan to her feet. "Come on, Bones. Time for bed. Tomorrow is a new day."

* * *

**And … that's it. I still have a couple of fight scenarios that might someday be written, but not as part of this story. Also, a couple of these will be expanded (if they start cooperating). People have requested that I expand X-Rated and Over. I've started X-Rated, so hopefully it will be up soon. Over will follow. If you have any other ones you'd like expanded, let me know.**

**Thanks so much to all of you for your suggestions! **


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